The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (107 page)

The building proved to be a typical second-hand store with old tables and chairs piled in the windows along with cut glass and bric-a-brac. Entering, the girls wandered about until a woman asked them if they were searching for anything in particular.

“We’re interested in furniture,” Penny explained. “Old pieces—antiques if we can find them.”

“Come into the back room,” the woman invited. “Mr. Butterworth bought a number of pieces just a few days ago. From one of Riverview’s best homes too.”

“Where was that?” inquired Louise.

“I didn’t hear him mention the name. It was from a house that has been closed many years. The owner returned only a short time ago and is closing out everything.”

The girls did not doubt that the furniture under discussion had been obtained from Rose Acres. They were certain of it as they viewed rosewood and mahogany chairs, imported mirrors, porcelain ornaments, massive four-poster beds, sofas with damaged coverings, and handsome chests and bureaus. Penny ventured to price a few of the items. The amount asked was so low that she knew Mr. Butterworth had paid an extremely small sum to the widow. Making an excuse for not purchasing, she and Louise escaped to the street.

“There’s no question about it,” Penny declared as they set off for Rose Acres. “Mrs. Marborough sold her beautiful things to Mr. Butterworth.”

“He can’t appreciate their value or he never would offer them at such low prices,” Louise added. “Anyone who buys those things will obtain wonderful bargains.”

Penny nodded soberly. Lost in thought, she had little to say until the girls drew near Rose Acres.

“Don’t let on to Mrs. Marborough that we’ve learned about the furniture,” she warned. “It’s really none of our affair if she sells her belongings.”

The widow had been expecting the girls and had everything in readiness to explore the tunnel. While they searched it from end to end, she waited hopefully at the wishing well.

“Have you found anything?” she called several times.

“Not yet,” Penny would reply patiently.

She and Louise laboriously examined every inch of the bricked passageway but with fading hope. The walls were firm, giving no indication that anything ever had been hidden behind or within them. To have excavated the hard-packed dirt flooring was a task not to be considered at the moment.

“There’s nothing here,” Penny whispered to her chum. “I doubt that the pearls ever were hidden in this tunnel.”

“Mrs. Marborough will be terribly disappointed,”Louise replied in an undertone. “What shall we tell her?”

“We can pretend to keep on searching. Maybe if we prowl about this place for a few days, we’ll have luck.”

“The pearls were hidden near the wishing well. We have that much to go on.”

“They may have disappeared years ago,” Penny contributed pessimistically. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel very hopeful about ever finding them.”

Leaving the tunnel by means of the easier exit, the girls emerged into the basement. They were preparing to climb the stairs to the first floor when Mrs. Marborough’s voice reached their ears almost as plainly as if she were in the cellar.

“Louise! Penny! Are you all right?”

Startled by the clearness of the call, the girls paused on the stairway.

“Why, her voice came through as plainly as if she were in this room!” Louise exclaimed. “You don’t suppose Mrs. Marborough has ventured into the passageway?”

Thoroughly alarmed, the girls raced up the stairway and out of the house into the yard. To their relief they saw Mrs. Marborough standing by the wishing well, peering anxiously down.

“Oh, here you are!” she murmured as they ran up. “I was beginning to get worried. The last time I called you did not answer.”

“We were down in the basement,” Penny explained. “Mrs. Marborough, your voice came through to us as plainly as if you were in the passage.”

The disclosure did not seem to surprise the widow, for she smiled and said:

“I’ve always known that sound carried from the well to the house. In fact, in past years I found it amusing to listen to conversations carried on by persons who never dreamed that their words were overheard.”

“Then that explains why so many wishes which were made here at the well came true!” Penny cried. “You were the Good Fairy behind it all.”

“Oh, now and then, if it pleased my fancy, I arranged to have a wish granted,” Mrs. Marborough acknowledged, smiling grimly. “That was in the days when I had money—” she broke off and ended—“more than I have now, I mean.”

“Mrs. Marborough, you must have heard those wishes we made the day of your return to Riverview,”Penny said after a moment. “Were you responsible for sending a basket of food to Rhoda’s people?”

“I am afraid I was.”

“And did you grant Rhoda’s second wish?” Louise asked quickly. “Did you have anything to do with getting her brother, Ted, a job?”

“Judge Harlan is an old friend of mine,” Mrs. Marborough explained. “I merely wrote him a note suggesting that he would do me a favor by helping the boy if he found him worthy.”

Although the widow’s admission cleared up much of the mystery which had surrounded the old wishing well, Louise and Penny were dumbfounded, nevertheless. Never once had anyone in Riverview connected Mrs. Marborough with a particularly charitable deed.

As if guessing their thoughts, the woman said sharply:

“Now mind, I’ll not have you telling this around the town! I’m through with all such silly business, and I don’t propose to have busybodies discuss whether or not I am addle-brained!”

“Why, Mrs. Marborough!” protested Louise. “It was a kind, generous thing to do.”

“Generous, fiddlesticks! I did it because it pleased me and for no other reason. Let’s not talk about it any more.”

Mrs. Marborough questioned the girls concerning their exploration of the tunnel. Her disappointment over the failure to find the pearls was keen but she tried not to show it.

“I knew it was a fool’s errand coming to Riverview to look for that stupid necklace!” she declared. “Like as not, it never was hidden at Rose Acres, my sister’s letter to the contrary. I intend to forget about the whole affair.”

“Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don’t give up so soon,”Penny pleaded. “Louise and I have only started to search. We may find it yet.”

“You’ve been very nice,” the widow said, smiling almost in a friendly way. “I’ll remember it always when I am far away.”

“Then you intend to leave Riverview?” Louise asked in disappointment.

“I must sell Rose Acres. I have no other course open.”

“Not to Jay Franklin, I hope!” Penny exclaimed.

“I have no intention of dealing with him if anyone else will make an offer. So far I have found no other person who is interested in the property.”

Drawing a deep sigh, Mrs. Marborough arose. Without much enthusiasm she invited the girls to come with her into the house, but they tactfully declined.

“We’ll come again tomorrow, if you don’t mind,”Penny said as she and Louise turned to leave.

“Do,” replied Mrs. Marborough. “We might make a final search for the pearls.”

Enroute to Riverview, the girls talked over the situation and agreed that the prospect of finding the necklace was a slim one. They had grown to like the eccentric widow and were sorry that she had decided to move away from the city of her birth.

“I am sure if she had money she would remain here,” Louise declared. “And it will nearly kill her if she is forced to deal with Jay Franklin. How she does dislike him!”

Parting with her chum in the business section of Riverview, Penny went directly to the
Star
office. Her father was ready to start home.

“Anything new about Jay Franklin and those record stones he hopes to sell to the museum?” Penny inquired absently as the automobile sped along the congested streets.

“Nothing you haven’t heard,” Mr. Parker replied. “Franklin expects to make the sale and probably will. The museum people have put themselves on record as saying that the stones bear authentic writing.”

“Then it appears that your original hunch was incorrect,”Penny observed. “Too bad you played down the story in the
Star
.”

“I may have made a mistake. All the same, I am pinning my hopes on the expert from Brimwell College.”

“What expert, Dad?”

“I guess I neglected to tell you. The
Star
hired Professor Anjus from Brimwell to inspect the stones. His opinion doesn’t coincide with that of the museum experts. He has pronounced them fakes.”

“If the experts can’t agree, then how can one prove anything?”

“It is something of a tangle,” Mr. Parker smiled. “I turned that tool you obtained from Crocker over to Professor Anjus. He expects to make exhaustive tests and to report to me within a few days.”

The car had reached the outskirts of Riverview. As it passed along streets which were sparsely dotted with houses, Penny called attention to several large billboards which disfigured the landscape.

“Look, Dad!” she directed, pointing to a particularly colorful poster. “An Indian show is coming to town next week!”

Mr. Parker turned his head to gaze at the billboard. To Penny’s amazement, he suddenly slammed on the brake, bringing the car to a lurching halt at the side of the road.

“That’s it!” he cried, his eyes on the huge sign. “The motive! I couldn’t figure it out, but now I have the clue I need! Penny, we’ll put a crimp in Jay Franklin’s little game, or my name isn’t Anthony Parker!”

CHAPTER 19

PUBLICITY PLUS

Completely mystified by her father’s remarks, Penny waited for him to explain.

“Don’t you get it?” he asked, waving his hand toward the big signboard. “The finding of those stones bearing Elizabethan and Indian writing was perfectly timed! It’s all a publicity stunt for the coming show!”

“How could it be?” Penny questioned, scarcely able to accept her father’s theory. “I found one of the rocks myself. I know I wasn’t hired by any Indian show!”

“It was pure luck that you stumbled into the stone, Penny. If you hadn’t, someone hired by the Indian show would have brought it to light.”

“But where does Jay Franklin figure in, Dad? You don’t think he’s connected with the publicity scheme as you call it!”

“Franklin wouldn’t have sufficient imagination to pull off a stunt like that,” Mr. Parker declared. “No, he may actually believe in the authenticity of the stones. At any rate, he saw an opportunity to make a little money for himself and seized it.”

“Why should an Indian show go to the trouble of having stones carved and planted in various fields? It doesn’t make sense.”

“The resulting publicity should draw state-wide attention to the show, Penny. It’s just the sort of idea which would appeal to a clever publicity agent. Every newspaper in Riverview except the
Star
has fallen for it, giving columns of space to the story.”

“I still don’t see how the show will gain. Its name never has been mentioned in connection with the finding of the stones.”

“Of course not, Penny. That would be too crude. But at the proper time, the publicity agent will twist all of the stories to his own purpose.”

“Dad,” said Penny sadly, “in the past you have accused me of having wild ideas. I think the score is even now.”

“I’ll have that show traced,” Mr. Parker declared, paying no heed to his daughter. “Since it is coming to Riverview next week it can’t be far away now. I may find it worth while to call on the publicity agent and have a little chat with him.”

Penny was gazing at the billboard again, reading the dates.

“Dad, the show will play here during Pilgrimage Week,” she declared. “What a shame! It’s certain to take away customers from a much more worthwhile event.”

“There may not be an Indian show,” responded Mr. Parker grimly. “Not when I get through with the outfit!”

Immediately upon arriving at home, the publisher called the newspaper office, delegating City Editor DeWitt to obtain complete information about the Indian Show and to report to him. All evening he talked of his theory until both Penny and Mrs. Weems confessed that they were a bit weary of redskins.

“I shall write an editorial for tomorrow’s
Star
,” Mr. Parker announced. “Even if I haven’t absolute facts, I’ll drop a few broad hints about those fake stones!”

The editorial, cleverly worded but with very definite implications, was composed that night, and telephoned to the newspaper office. Penny had the pleasure of reading it at breakfast the next morning.

“You certainly did yourself proud, Dad,” she praised. “However, I imagine the museum people aren’t going to be too pleased. Nor certain other folks in this town.”

“Let me take a look at it,” Mr. Parker requested, reaching for the paper.

As Penny offered it to him, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Weems was busy in the kitchen so the girl arose and went to answer it. Jay Franklin stood on the porch.