But as the light went on, she saw that only a small hole had been broken in the glass. On the floor, scarcely two feet from the bed, lay a small object wrapped in black cloth.
Penny rolled out of bed and gingerly picked it up. Carefully and with a feeling of revulsion, she untied the packet.
Inside were two black feathers, the wing of a bird, herbs which Penny could not identify, a bit of bone, and a small amount of damp earth.
There was no warning message, nothing to identify the one who had thrown the packet, yet Penny instantly knew its significance and from whence it had come.
“Either Antón or Celeste hurled it because I’ve cramped their style!” she thought. “Well, their little hex won’t work! I’ll use this evil charm to fashion their own undoing!”
The sound of crashing glass brought both Mrs. Weems and Mr. Parker to the bedroom. They found Penny standing at the window, the light off, peering down into the yard.
“What’s coming off here?” Mr. Parker demanded, his voice cross because he had been aroused from sound slumber. “Did something blow against the window?”
“This was thrown,” Penny revealed, holding up the packet. “Dad, can you see anyone hiding in the shrubbery?”
Mr. Parker moved to the window, gazing intently about the yard.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Whoever it was, he’s probably gone now.” Penny carefully drew the blinds before snapping on the overhead light. She handed the packet to her father.
“What’s this, Penny?”
“It was thrown through the window. I suspect it’s intended as a bad luck omen, and to frighten me. Evidently my work on the Rhett case is not appreciated.”
“A jungle charm!” exclaimed Mrs. Weems, horrified. “Oh, Penny, I knew no good would come of your having anything to do with that queer family! Here, give that horrid thing to me—I’ll burn it in the furnace.”
“Not so fast,” chuckled Penny. “I intend to keep it as evidence.”
“But it may bring you bad luck.”
“Why, Mrs. Weems, I’m surprised at you,” teased Penny. “Surely you’re not superstitious?”
“No,” the housekeeper denied, “but from what you’ve told me about those queer Rhett servants, I distrust them. I don’t want you even to touch that ugly package!”
“These objects aren’t harmful,” Penny insisted, selecting the bit of bone and offering it to Mrs. Weems. “Why attach special significance to them?”
With a shudder, the housekeeper backed away.
“Penny is right,” declared Mr. Parker. “The packet is silly and has no meaning unless we build it up in our own minds. That, of course, is exactly what the one who hurled it intends us to do.”
“Penny mustn’t go to that dreadful place again!”
“Oh, Mrs. Weems! Don’t you see, that’s just what Antón and Celeste hope to accomplish. If they can keep me away from the mansion merely by throwing one of their stupid charms through my window, their trick has been successful.”
“I quite agree with Penny,” Mr. Parker declared. “In fact, I may call at the mansion myself! I’ve become interested in Antón and Celeste—they’re a very successful pair of bluffers.”
“Oh, Dad! Will you go with me tomorrow?”
“Perhaps,” he promised vaguely. “We’ll see, when the time comes. I foresee any number of troubles far more serious than our concern with the Rhett family.”
“With both of you against me, I’m only wasting my breath,” Mrs. Weems sighed, drawing her robe tightly about her. “I may as well go to bed.”
Penny put the black packet on the dresser after her father had finished inspecting it. “I intend to wear this charm around my neck the next time I go to the Rhetts’,” she declared. “It will be fun to see how Celeste and Antón react.”
“Don’t carry your fun too far,” her father advised. “While it’s true this charm has no significance or supernatural power, Antón and Celeste may be dangerous characters. They’ll bear watching.”
“And I’m the one to do it,” Penny chuckled. “I’m not a bit afraid of them, Dad. As you said, they’re a couple of bluffers.”
“I may have used the word ill-advisedly,” the publisher corrected. “Don’t make the mistake of underrating them. The case, as you well know, has sinister aspects.”
“I’ll be careful,” Penny promised soberly.
After her father had returned to his room, she went back to bed. A chill wind whistled in through the hole in the window, but she burrowed deep beneath the blankets and soon was sound asleep.
Next morning, as Mr. Parker had predicted, newspapers carried screaming headlines, announcing that the hurricane might reach Riverview by nightfall. Householders were advised to take every precaution to protect life and property.
School opened and was promptly dismissed at nine o’clock. At home, Penny helped Mrs. Weems carry in the porch awning, remove the shutters and all loose objects which were likely to be torn free by the wind.
By now, papers were blowing wildly, cluttering the yard. Each gust brought sticks or small limbs crashing down into the street.
Mrs. Weems, hovering near the radio to hear the last-minute reports, declared that the barometer continued to fall.
“The storm is steadily getting worse,” she said nervously.
After lunch, Penny went to the newspaper office to inquire if Mr. DeWitt had any special assignment for her.
“Nothing right now,” he said, rapidly scanning a page of copy. “But stick around. Anything may break.”
Penny waited, growing increasingly restless. She was certain DeWitt had forgotten all about her, when he slammed down a telephone receiver and glanced in her direction.
“Go out on the street and see what’s doing,” he ordered. “Might check the police station, too, on your way in.”
Penny nodded and went out through the barrier gate. The feel of the approaching hurricane was in the air. Walking toward the river, she saw blue-green water boiling into sinister white foam where it vaulted onto the docks.
Pedestrians were few in number and all hurrying. Business was at a standstill. Shutters were going up over plate glass windows, and street signs were being taken down.
Penny wandered about for a time and then, as a fine rain began to fall, sought the police station. Checking routine reports, she noted four injury cases caused by flying objects, several thefts of property, and more than the usual number of automobile accidents.
At the office once more, she wrote an impressionist account of what she had seen, then waited for another assignment.
“Penny, you may as well go home while you can get there,” DeWitt said presently. “City Traction is shutting off service at six o’clock, and after that you won’t be able to take a bus.”
At another time Penny might have been disappointed to be sent home when exciting news was breaking, but dismissal now fitted neatly into her plans. She was determined to make one last investigation of the thatched roof cottage at the Rhett mansion. However, to beat the storm, she must move fast.
Going out the door, Penny met Jerry who had just come in from the river front. His felt hat was dripping wet.
“It’s getting nasty outside,” he remarked. “How are you going home, Penny? By bus?”
“Eventually, but not just now,” she grinned. “First, I have a little errand at the Rhetts’.”
“Better skip it,” he advised. “This storm is the real McCoy.”
“Can’t afford to, Jerry. I want to look over that thatched cottage once more. If I don’t do it now, it probably won’t be there by tomorrow.”
“If you’re set on going out there, better make it a speedy trip,” Jerry returned. “The storm is rolling in fast.”
Reaching the mansion twenty minutes later, Penny was surprised to see an unfamiliar automobile parked on the Rhett driveway. As she went up the front walk, the door opened, and three men came outside. Without noticing the girl, they entered the car and drove away.
“Wonder who they are and what brought them here?” Penny mused.
In response to her knock, Celeste opened the door. Seeing Penny, the woman tried to close it in her face, but the girl pushed boldly past her into the hallway.
Penny purposely had worn the black packet on a string around her neck. While Celeste was closing the door, she pulled it from her dress front, and then opened her raincoat so that the housekeeper could not fail to see the object.
Celeste’s eyes instantly riveted upon the dangling packet.
“My good luck charm!” said Penny. “Someone gave it to me last night!”
Celeste’s lips dropped apart to show her uneven teeth.
“It is an evil packet!” she hissed. “If you wear it, sickness and death will pursue you!”
“Not this cookie,” chuckled Penny. “You see, I don’t believe such nonsense. Whoever tossed this thing through my window went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”
Celeste’s face, an interesting study in mixed emotions, suddenly became a blank mask. Hearing footsteps, the woman mumbled something and scurried away.
Lorinda came down the stairway. “Oh, Penny!” she exclaimed, grasping her hand. “I’m so glad you came! We’re in such trouble!”
“Your mother is worse?”
“Yes, she is failing rapidly, and the visit of those three bankers upset her dreadfully.”
“The men I met on the walk?”
“Yes, they’re members of the First National Bank board. They told Mother she must make up the $250,000 bond loss within forty-eight hours, or my stepfather will be exposed as a thief, and the estate sued! It seems Mr. Potts convinced them my stepfather had the bonds when he disappeared.”
“What will your mother do?”
“What can she do? Nearly all of her property is in real estate. She might be able to raise $30,000 cash within the required time, but never the amount they demand.”
“You’ve heard nothing from your stepfather?”
“Not a word. The police haven’t contributed any worthwhile clues either. They didn’t go deeply into the case.”
“Can you blame them? You and your mother withheld facts and discouraged them at every turn.”
“I know.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I thought you understood,” Lorinda answered in a low voice. “Mother and my stepfather quarreled violently on that last day at the bank. She didn’t want the truth to get out, so she tried to keep from answering questions.”
“Then your stepfather disappeared as a result of the quarrel?”
“I don’t know. It is a possibility.”
“You believe your stepfather may have stolen the bonds?”
“Oh, no! Never! He may have had them on his person when he went away or was spirited off, but I am sure he is no thief!”
Shutters were flapping in the wind. The porch furniture had not been brought into the house, and through the window, Penny saw that many loose, breakable objects remained in the garden. Abruptly changing the subject, she said:
“Lorinda, the storm is getting worse every minute. Can’t we bring in the porch furniture?”
“I told Antón to do it early this morning. He went off somewhere. Celeste has been no help either. They’re both acting so independent.”
“We don’t need their help. Come! We can do it together.”
Lorinda put on her rain cape and they went out onto the porch. Already the rug was rain soaked. They rolled it up and carried it to the basement, where they also took the furniture. Deciding it was too late to do anything about nailing down the shutters or taking them off, they brought in loose objects from the yard.
In passing the library, Penny noticed that a window was open. The curtain was drenched and rain was pouring in upon the floor.
With a cry of dismay, she ran to close it. As she turned around, she saw at once that the wall safe was exposed to view, and open.
“Lorinda!” she called.
Her friend came quickly to the doorway. “Anything wrong?” she inquired.
Penny directed her gaze toward the safe. “Did you leave it open?” she asked.
“No!” With a startled exclamation, Lorinda darted across the room. She thrust her arm into the circular opening, and withdrew it empty.
“The Zudi drum is gone!” she announced. “It’s been stolen!”
The news did not astonish Penny for she had anticipated it. She said quietly:
“Lorinda, surely now you’ll call in the police? The Zudi drum must be a very valuable trophy.”
“It is. Yes, I suppose the only thing to do is notify police headquarters.”
Lorinda went to a telephone, but although she tried many times, she was unable to contact the operator. “The line must be down,” she reported. “The wire sounds dead.”
“Then we’re isolated here until after the storm. Lorinda, why don’t you question Celeste and Antón?”
“It would be useless.”
“Let me do it.”
“Go ahead, but they’ll not tell you anything,” Lorinda said despairingly. “Antón and Celeste have been interested in the Zudi drum ever since they came here, but I’ve never known them to steal.”
“Did they know the safe combination?”
“Not unless they learned it the last few days. I noticed that Celeste watches lately whenever anyone enters or leaves the library.”
“Then she may have obtained the combination. I know she was tampering with the dial yesterday. Where is she now?”
“In the kitchen, I suppose.”
Celeste, however, was not to be found there, nor was she in any of the upstairs bedrooms, or in her own room on the first floor adjoining the garage.
“I don’t know where she and Antón went,” Lorinda declared, deeply troubled. “I hate to accuse them without proof, but it does look as if they’re the only ones who could have stolen the drum!”
“How about the trophies at the thatched roof cottage? Are they safe?”
“Let’s find out,” Lorinda proposed. “Wait, I’ll get the key. Incidentally, it was mysteriously returned to my stepfather’s room yesterday.”
She returned with the key in a moment, and the girls ran down the slippery path through the falling rain. The whine of a steadily rising wind was in their ears as they opened the cottage door and stepped inside.
Lorinda looked carefully about. “Everything seems to be here—” she began, only to correct herself. “No, the crossed machetes which were on the wall! They’re gone!”
“And the rattle!” exclaimed Penny. “Where is it?”
Lorinda pulled out the wooden chest and raised the lid. “The altar cloth is missing and any number of things! Almost everything has been taken!”
In the midst of checking over the few remaining objects in the chest, Lorinda suddenly raised her head.
“Listen!” she commanded.
At first, Penny could distinguish only the whistle of the wind, then she became aware of a low rumbling murmur which seemed to come from the very walls of the cottage.
“It’s a chant!” whispered Lorinda. “I can hear drums too, as if from a long distance away!”
A little frightened, neither girl spoke for a while. The strange sound died away, then was resumed. This time they distinctly could hear the thumping of drums.
Penny went to the door of the cottage to listen. Outside there was only the whine of the wind and the crashing of tree branches.
“Lorinda, this cottage must have a secret passage!” she declared excitedly. “I thought so before, and now I’m certain of it!”
Already Lorinda was down on hands and knees before the fireplace, tapping the tiles. They gave forth a hollow sound. However, she could find no opening.
Penny removed a huge black kettle from hanging chains, and peered up into the chimney. Her groping hand encountered a rod which she assumed controlled the draft. She pulled on it.The floor beneath her feet suddenly gave way, and she would have pitched through the opening had not Lorinda seized her arms and held her.
Scrambling back to solid flooring, Penny peered down into the dark opening where the hearth had been. The tiles were only a sham, she saw now, fastened to a hinged rectangle of wood, which had fallen back like a trap door.
Steep stone steps led down into inky darkness.
“Why, I never dreamed this was here!” Lorinda whispered. “It must have been built that summer Mother and I were away!”
The sound of drums and incantations came plainly now. Neither Penny nor Lorinda was eager to investigate the passage. They feared that they might encounter something with which they would be unable to cope. But to retreat was equally unthinkable.
Penny found the cocoanut shell lamp and lit the floating wick. Moving ahead, she cautiously descended the stone steps. Lorinda kept close beside her.
Twelve steps led almost straight down. There the girls found themselves in a bricked-over passageway, so narrow they could barely squeeze through. However, after they had gone a few yards, it widened a little.
“Where do you suppose this leads?” Penny whispered. “To the river?”
“Probably. It seems to me the sound of the drums came from that direction.”
The weird noises no longer could be heard and the silence disturbed the girls. Could it be that in entering the tunnel they had revealed their presence? Nervous and tense, they moved forward at a snail’s pace, feeling their way along the wall and taking care to make no betraying sound.
The tunnel led downhill. In places the roof was so low the girls were forced to bend double to pass through. The walls were damp and crumbly and, at points near the roof, water dripped steadily.
Then presently Penny halted, shifting the lamp to her other hand. The passage had widened into a tiny room from which two tunnels branched.
“Which shall we take?” she asked Lorinda.
They selected the wider of the two, which soon proved a deception. Scarcely had they left the little dugout than it narrowed until they were barely able to edge through.
“Shall we turn back and try the other?” Penny suggested.
Lorinda wanted to keep on. “We’re moving uphill now,” she pointed out. “I suspect this must lead either to the house or the road.”
Her guess proved to be correct. Another twenty yards and the tunnel terminated abruptly in front of a door. It opened readily. A dozen roughly carved steps led upward to a trap door. Penny pushed it aside and blinking owlishly, climbed out into a bedroom.
She saw then that the trap door had been cut in the center of the room floor, hidden from view by a large rag rug which now lay in an untidy heap.
“Why, we’re in Celeste’s room!” Lorinda exclaimed as she too emerged. “Adjoining the garage!”
“This explains quite a few things to me,” remarked Penny.
“And to me! Celeste must have known about this passage all the time, but she never hinted of it to Mother or me!”
“If you ask my opinion, Celeste not only has known about the passage, she’s been using it regularly,” declared Penny, gazing curiously about the room.
The bed had been carelessly made, and a red bandana handkerchief had been left hanging on one of the wooden posts. On the dresser were a number of objects which drew the girls’ attention. From the pin tray Penny picked up a tiny black feather and there were strips of torn black cloth which exactly matched the packet she wore about her neck.
“This proves it!” she exclaimed. “Celeste made the evil charm which was thrown through my window last night!”
“Charm?” Lorinda inquired. “Penny, what are you talking about?”
Penny showed her the packet and explained how it had been hurled through the window pane. “I’m sure Celeste had Antón do it or perhaps she tossed it herself. At any rate, she made the packet to frighten me, only it didn’t work.”
“Unless Celeste can explain matters satisfactorily, I’ll turn her over to the police!” Lorinda said angrily.
“Finding her may not be so easy now. Also getting her into police custody may take a little doing. I’m afraid we’ve waited too long, Lorinda.”
“No, we’ll find her!” Lorinda announced with determination. “After all, she doesn’t know how much we have learned. Let’s investigate the other passageway.”
“All right,” Penny agreed, “but this lamp isn’t much good. We need a flashlight.”
“I have one in my room. I’ll get it, see if Mother is all right, and be right back.”
Lorinda was gone less than five minutes. “Mother is sleeping, so it’s safe to leave her,” she reported. “Here’s the flash, but I couldn’t find an extra battery.”
Descending into the passageway, the girls retraced their steps to the tiny dugout midway between the thatched roof cottage and the mansion. As they entered the other tunnel, they again heard the throb of jungle drums, and the weird incantation of many guttural voices.
“A chant to the Serpent God!” whispered Lorinda. “Do you hear that high-pitched drum which sounds above the others?”
Penny nodded as she moved forward in the dark, narrow passage.
“It is the Zudi,” Lorinda added. “I would know its tone anywhere! We must recover it, but if what I think is so, it will be a dangerous task!”
The tunnel sloped gently downward, apparently toward the river beach. As the girls moved along, the pulsing of the drums came with increasing crescendo. They could hear the wailing chant plainly now, an incantation in which many voices were united.
“Better switch off the light,” Lorinda advised in a whisper. “We’re getting close.”
Penny darkened the flashlight, groping her way along the damp, rocky wall. The passage now had widened, and suddenly ahead, she saw the flickering flame of a torch.
In the shadowy light swayed a half dozen celebrants of the weird rites. The room was circular, a cavern carved from the rocks years before by the action of water.
Penny’s gaze focused upon the dancing figures. Antón, barefooted and grotesque with a red turban wound about his head, led the procession, beating out a rhythm and shaking the gourd rattle which had been stolen from the thatched cottage.
Behind him came a drummer Penny did not recognize, and three other dancers, who carried aloft a banner upon which were metallic, glittering serpentine symbols.
But it was Celeste, garbed in scarlet with an embroidered stole over her shoulders, who dominated the scene. Seated before an altar where two tall candles burned, she pounded out the basic rhythm on a long, narrow drum.
“The Zudi!” whispered Lorinda. “She stole it from the safe!”
“Let’s make her give it up!”
“No! No!” Lorinda grasped Penny’s arm, holding her back. “It would be folly to show ourselves now. Antón, Celeste and their stupid converts are hypnotized by their own music. If they knew we were watching their rites, there’s no telling what they would do.”
“Celeste is a cruel, dangerous woman.”
“We’ll turn her over to the police. I realize now it’s the only thing to do.”
Fascinated, the girls watched the strange sight. The drums were beating faster now, and at each boom of the Zudi, Antón leaped with frenzied glee rigid as an arrow into the air.
“Who are the others?” Penny whispered.
Lorinda shook her head. “No-good friends of Antón and Celeste probably,” she returned. “Recruits from the slums of Riverview.”
On the altar were many objects, a basket of bread, a basin of cooked fish, a carved wooden serpent and a wreath of feathers. A kettle contained a brew from which the dancers at intervals dipped with a gourd cup and drank.
Outside the cave, the wind howled an accompaniment to the wild ceremony, covering the shrill shrieks and savage laughter.
“We’ve seen enough of this!” whispered Penny. “Let’s get the police and break it up!”
“All right,” agreed Lorinda. “I hate to turn Antón and Celeste over to the authorities, but I’m convinced now they have reverted to heathen ways, and may even be responsible for Mother’s sickness.”
They started to retreat, making no sound. In the darkness Lorinda stumbled over a small rock. She made no outcry as she saved herself from a fall, but her shoes scuffed noisily and her body thudded heavily against the wall.
Instantly the Zudi drum ceased its rhythm. “What was that?” they heard Celeste ask sharply.
The girls huddled against the wall. An instant later, Antón, a torch in his hand, peered down the tunnel.
His cry told the girls they had been seen. In panic, they started down the passageway with Antón in hot pursuit. And close at his heels came Celeste and her followers.
Escape was impossible. Before the girls had gone a half dozen yards they were overtaken. Though they struggled to free themselves, Antón’s grasp was like a steel bracelet upon their arms. They were half dragged back to the cave.
“Antón! Celeste! What is the meaning of this?” Lorinda demanded, seeking to regain control of the servants by sheer power of will.
She tried to shake herself free, but Antón did not release her. He awaited the word of his wife.
“Tie them up!” said Celeste harshly.
“Celeste, have you lost your mind!” Lorinda cried.
In the flickering light of the torch, the woman’s face was like a rigid mask. Eyes burned with hatred; cheeks were deeply indrawn. Lorinda felt as if she were gazing upon a stranger, and suddenly was afraid.
“You dared to steal Father’s drum!” she challenged.
“It is now my drum,” retorted Celeste.
“You spied upon me many times until you learned the combination of the safe!” Lorinda accused.
Celeste did not deny the charge. She was burrowing behind the low altar and from the box-like structure drew forth a long stout cord. Severing it with the blade of a sharp knife, she handed the two pieces to Antón who attempted to tie Lorinda’s hands behind her.
The girl fought like a wild cat, and Penny, held by one of Celeste’s followers, sought to free herself, but it was useless. She too was tightly bound and thrown down on the floor of the cave.
“Celeste, why are you doing this cruel thing?” Lorinda asked in a pleading tone. “Does it mean nothing to you that Father brought you here, fed you, clothed you—gave you many advantages?”
For a moment Celeste softened and seemed to hesitate. Lorinda was quick to press the advantage.
“My father and my mother have been very kind to you—”
Mention of her mother’s name proved unfortunate. Celeste’s face hardened into rigid lines again and she said furiously:
“I hate her! May her flesh rot away and her bones be torn asunder!”
“Celeste! And to think we ever trusted you! Mother is ill because you have willed it so—it was you who made the wicked effigy doll—you who kept planting in her mind the idea that she would become ill and die!”
“And I have the will too!” the woman said gleefully. “I told Antón to get it from the library! Then I called you to your mother’s room so he could snatch it from the table!”
“But why did you do it, Celeste? What have you gained?”
“You will not steal my master’s money! The will is destroyed—burned!”
“Steal my stepfather’s money? Indeed, you are out of your mind, Celeste! My stepfather has disappeared and may never be seen again.”
“He lives.”
“How do you know?” Lorinda cried eagerly.
“Celeste know—feel it here.” The woman touched her breast.
“You’ve seen him—talked to him since he went away!” Lorinda accused.
“No!”
“Then unless you’ve had a message from him, you couldn’t know whether he is alive or dead.”
“Celeste know,” the woman replied stubbornly. “We save the money for him.”
“If my stepfather returns I’ll be perfectly happy for him to have Mother’s estate. You’re all mixed up, Celeste. Now let’s put an end to this nonsense. Free us!”
“No,” retorted the grim woman. “Celeste and Antón go away now. Perhaps find master. You will stay in cave.”
“Celeste, how did you know about this passage and cave?” Lorinda asked, stalling for time.
“Antón help build it.”
“But why should my stepfather build the passageway?” Lorinda murmured. “It doesn’t seem like him.”
Celeste did not answer. Gathering up the machete, the Zudi drum, the embroidered altar cloth and other stolen treasures, she prepared to leave.
“It was you who whispered the warning at the thatched cottage!” accused Penny. “You wanted to prevent discovery of this cave!”
Celeste’s cruel smile acknowledged the truth. Saying something to Antón in their own language, she padded off down the passageway.
All save Antón now had gone. He blew out the altar candles, picked up the pine torch and would have blown out the cocoanut shell lamp, had Penny not said pleadingly:
“Please leave us a tiny light, Antón. It will be so dark here in the cave.”
The man hesitated, glancing down the passage as if fearful Celeste would punish him for such a display of weakness. But he did as Penny requested. First, however, he noted that the lamp was nearly empty of oil and could not burn many minutes. Without extinguishing it, he disappeared into the tunnel.
Waiting only until she was certain Celeste, Antón and their converts were out of the passage, Lorinda said excitedly:
“They forgot to gag us! We can shout for help!”
“With a hurricane roaring outside, it’s a waste of breath,” replied Penny. “No one will be on the beach tonight, and our voices wouldn’t carry a dozen yards.”
“Then what are we to do? Antón and Celeste mean to run away now. The police never will be able to find them unless we act quickly.”
“I have an idea, but it may not work.”
Penny, her hands and feet securely tied, began to roll toward the cocoanut oil lamp.
“What are you trying to do?” Lorinda asked anxiously.
“Maybe I can burn the cords on my wrists. That’s why I asked Antón to leave the lamp.”
“Perhaps you can!” cried Lorinda, taking hope. “But it will be dangerous and very hard to do. The oil is almost gone. You’ll have to work fast, Penny, or you’ll lose your chance!”
Penny squirmed and rolled until her hands were very close to the cocoanut oil lamp on the rocky floor of the cave.
“Be careful!” Lorinda cried fearfully. “If your clothing should catch fire, nothing could save you.”
Penny held her hands, which were bound behind her back, over the flame. The heat seared her flesh and made her wince with pain.
“Keep it up, Penny!” encouraged her companion. “The cord is catching fire! But the lamp is almost out!”
Penny gritted her teeth and endured the pain. Then the lamp sputtered and went out, leaving the cave to darkness.
“Oh!” wailed Lorinda in bitter disappointment.
Penny tugged at the wrist cords. Although not severed, they were half burned through and weakened. A hard jerk freed her hands.
Only a moment then was required to untie the cords which held her feet. Next she freed Lorinda. As the girls started to leave through the passageway, Penny felt a cold blast of air upon her neck. Looking up, she was able to distinguish a small opening in the wall of the cave.
“Maybe we can get out there!” she exclaimed. “Give me a boost and I’ll see!”
Lorinda lifted her up. Scrambling like a monkey, Penny secured a toe hold and crammed her head and shoulders through the opening. A moment later she ducked back to call to her friend:
“We can get out all right! But the storm is getting awful! I’ll crawl out and then help you.”
Scrambling through the narrow opening, Penny found herself amid the high rocks overlooking the beach. The wind was blowing in puffs, each so powerful that she nearly was dislodged from her precarious perch.
Reaching back through the hole, Penny offered her arms to Lorinda who succeeded in joining her. They huddled in the lee of an overhanging rock, rain driving into their faces.
“We must get word to the police!” Penny said breathlessly.
“And I must make certain Mother is safe!” Lorinda added. “She’s been left too long alone. Antón and Celeste may have gone back there, and in that case, anything might happen!”
Slipping and sliding, the girls descended the rocks to the beach. The river, lashed by a sheet of rain, was dark and ugly. Much of the sand had been inundated and water bubbled at their heels as they ran toward the road.
A car swung toward them, its headlights blurred by the rain. It parked at the curb, and the driver tooted several times as if in signal.
“That looks like Jerry’s car!” Penny cried hopefully.
It was, indeed, the reporter. He swung open the automobile door, and as they recognized him, they dashed across the road and gratefully slid into the shelter offered.
“Don’t you girls know better than to be running around at a time like this?” Jerry demanded severely. “Lucky I saw you streaking up the beach!”
“What brought you here?” Penny gasped, taking several deep breaths.
“What brought me? Say, don’t you realize we’re in for a real storm, and it’s almost here! The radio ten minutes ago reported that Oelwein, on the coast, has been completely destroyed! I knew you came here to do a little sleuthing, Penny, and I figured someone ought to look after you.”
“Thanks, Jerry,” she returned gratefully. “We were in trouble—plenty of it.”
As the reporter drove on toward the Rhett mansion, Penny quickly revealed what had happened. Jerry made little comment, but his expression was grim.
“Maybe Antón and Celeste are here,” he said as the car reached the Rhett home. “If they are, we’ll round ’em up.”
Celeste and Antón, however, were not to be found in the mansion. Their rooms remained deserted and there was no indication that they had returned to the house after leaving the cave.
Lorinda lost not a moment in hastening to her mother’s bedroom. To her relief, Mrs. Rhett was sleeping quietly and did not awaken.
“Thank goodness, she is safe,” the girl murmured. “After what happened in the cave, I feared the worst.”
“We ought to get the police on the trail of Antón and Celeste before they make their escape,” Jerry urged. “Once the full force of this storm strikes, no one will be able to stir outside.”
He tried the telephone but the line remained dead. “I’ll drive to the police station,” he decided. “Are you girls coming along?”
“I’ll stay with Mother,” Lorinda said. “She mustn’t be left alone.”
Penny hesitated, intending to remain with her friend, but Jerry seized her by the arm. “Your father sent me out here to round you up, so I’ll take you to the newspaper office,” he declared. “Let’s go!”
As they opened the front door, rain poured in and a great blast of wind nearly swept the pair from their feet.
“Wow!” exclaimed the reporter, holding tight to Penny as with heads lowered, they ran for the car. “This is it!”
The air was filled with flying objects, and a shingle loosened from the mansion roof, hurtled against Penny. Jerry pulled the car door open. The wind seized it, nearly wrenching it off the hinges. Gusts were of greater velocity now, with the intervals much shorter.
For a dreadful moment, Penny and Jerry thought the car would not start. The reporter jammed his foot on the starter again and again and gave it the full choke. Suddenly, the motor caught.
As they drove off along the river road, the force of the wind was so great it required all of Jerry’s strength to keep the car straight on the road.
“We’ll be lucky if we reach the police station!” he exclaimed. “This is a lot worse than I figured.”
“Jerry!”
Seizing the reporter’s arm, Penny pointed to a crouched figure visible on the road ahead. The woman, hair flying in wild streamers, clutched a large object in her arms, and was bent almost double as she sought to move against the wind.
“It’s Celeste!” Penny cried.