Behind the Green Door Part 8

"You did, Penny? What did they have to say? Nothing good, I'll warrant."

"I couldn't understand what they meant at the time, but now I think I do.

They said that nothing stood in their way except your place. Maxwell declared he would soon take care of you, and that he was on his way to Pine Top to show Fergus how such affairs were handled."

Mrs. Downey kept on stirring with the big spoon. "So the screws are to be twisted a bit harder?" she asked grimly.

"Why do they want your place?" Penny inquired.

"Because I take a few of their guests away from them. If my lodge closed up they could raise prices sky high, and they would do it, too!"

"They offered me a special rate, whatever that means."

"Fergus has been cutting his room rents lately for the sole purpose of getting my customers away from me. He makes up for it by charging three and even four dollars a meal. The guests don't learn that until after they have moved in."

"And there's nothing you can do about it?"

Mrs. Downey shook her head. "I've been fighting with my back to the wall this past season. I don't see how I possibly can make it another year.

That is why I wanted you and your father to visit here before I gave up the place."

"Dad might have helped you," Penny said regretfully. "I'm sorry he wasn't able to come."

At one o'clock Mrs. Downey served a plain but substantial meal to fourteen guests who tramped in out of the snow. They called loudly for second and third helpings which were cheerfully given.

After luncheon Penny sat for a time about the crackling log fire and then she went to her room and changed into her skiing clothes.

"The nursery slopes are at the rear of the lodge," Mrs. Downey told her as she went out through the kitchen. "But you're much too experienced for them."

"I haven't been on skis for nearly two years."

"It will come back to you quickly."

"I thought I might taxi down and look over the Fergus hotel."

"The trail is well marked. Just be careful as you get about half way down. There is a sharp turn and if you miss it you may find yourself wrapped around an evergreen."

Penny went outside, and buckling on her skis, glided to the top of a long slope which fell rather sharply through lanes of pine trees to the wide valley below. As she was studying the course, reflecting that the crusted snow would be very fast, Francine came out of the lodge and stood watching her.

"What's the matter, Penny?" she called. "Can't you get up your nerve?"

Penny dug in her poles and pushed off. Crouching low, skis running parallel, she tore down the track. Pine trees crowded past on either side in a greenish blur. The wind whistled in her ears. She jabbed her poles into the snow to check her speed.

After the first steep stretch, the course flattened out slightly. From a cautious left traverse, a lifted stem turn gave her time to concentrate her full attention on the route ahead. She swerved to avoid a boulder which would have broken her ski had she crashed into it, and rode out a series of long, undulating hollows.

Gathering speed again, Penny made her decisions with lightning rapidity.

There was no time to think. Confronted with a choice of turns, she chose the right hand trail, slashing through in a beautiful christiana. Too late, she realized her error.

Directly ahead loomed a barbed wire fence. There was no opportunity to turn aside. Penny knew that she must jump or take a disastrous fall.

Swinging her poles forward, she let them drop in the snow close to her ski tips. Crouching low she sprang upward with all her strength. The sticks gave her leverage so that she could lift her skis clear of the snow. Momentum carried her forward over the fence.

Penny felt the jar of the runners as they slapped on the snow. Then she lost her balance and tumbled head over heels.

Untangling herself, she sat up and gazed back at the barbed wire fence.

"I wish all my friends at Riverview could have seen that jump!" she thought proudly. "It was a beauty even if I did land wrong side up."

A large painted sign which had been fastened to the fence, drew her attention. It read: "Skiers Keep Out."

"I wonder if that means me?" remarked Penny aloud.

"Yes, it means you!" said an angry voice behind her.

Penny rolled over in the snow, waving her skis in the air. She drew in her breath sharply. An old man with a dark beard had stepped from the shadow of the pine trees, a gun grasped in his gnarled hands!

CHAPTER 6 _PENNY TRESPa.s.sES_

"Can't you understand signs?" the old man demanded, advancing with cat-like tread from the fringe of pine trees.

"Not when I'm traveling down a mountain side at two hundred miles an hour!" Penny replied. "Please, would you mind pointing that cannon in some other direction? It might go off."

The old man lowered the shotgun, but the grim lines of his wrinkled, leathery face did not relax.

"Get up!" he commanded, prodding her with the toe of his heavy boot. "Get out of here! I won't have you or any other skier on my property."

"Then allow me to make a suggestion," remarked Penny pleasantly. "Put up another strand of barbed wire and you'll have them all in the hospital!"

She sat up, gingerly felt of her left ankle and then began to brush snow from her jacket. "Did you see me make the jump?" she asked. "I took it just like a reindeer. Or do I mean a gazelle?"

"You made a very awkward jump!" he retorted. "I could have done better myself."

Penny glanced up with genuine interest. "Oh, do you ski?"

By this time she no longer was afraid of the old man, if indeed she had ever been.

"No, I don't ski!" he answered impatiently. "Now hurry up! Get those skis off and start moving! I'll not wait all day."

Penny began to unstrap the long hickory runners, but with no undue show of haste. She glanced curiously about the snowy field. An old shed stood not far away. Beside it towered a great stack of wood which reached nearly as high as the roof. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of a weather-stained log cabin with smoke curling lazily from the brick chimney.

As Penny was regarding it, she saw a flash of color at one of the windows. A girl who might have been her own age had her face pressed against the pane. Seeing Penny's gaze upon her, she began to make motions which could not be understood.

The old man also turned his head to look toward the cabin. Immediately, the girl disappeared from the window.

"Is that where you live?" inquired Penny.