Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 34

"We've already put every policeman in Riverview on the trail of those men!" he answered soberly. "And we'll scour every nook and cranny of this town ourselves! Chin up, Penny! Why, we've only started to fight!"

CHAPTER 22 _A PARK BENCH_

Penny and her friends were heartsick with the knowledge that Mr. Parker had fallen into the hands of ruthless members of the tire-theft gang. The taxi which had borne him away had left the mansion fully an hour earlier.

There seemed little likelihood that the trail could be picked up quickly.

"I'll telephone the boys at the newspaper office," Salt offered. "The police too! We'll put a description on the radio. We'll have everybody in Riverview watching for that yellow taxi."

"Call the cab companies too," urged Penny. "We may be able to trace it through the driver."

Salt made good use of the Deming telephone which had not been disconnected during the winter months. While he phoned, Penny ran outside to find the policeman a.s.signed to guard the mansion. She soon returned with him and placed Mrs. Botts in his custody.

"Oh, Mr. Deming, don't let them take me to jail," the housekeeper pleaded. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

"Mrs. Botts, I can't help you," her employer returned coldly. "Your offense is a very serious one. The court must decide your fate."

The housekeeper broke into tears again and for several minutes was quite hysterical. When her act moved no one, she resigned herself to the inevitable. Packing a few articles in a bag, she prepared to leave the house in the custody of the policeman.

"I'm sorry about everything," she said as she bade the girls goodbye. "I hope Mr. Parker is found. I really do."

After Mrs. Botts had gone, Penny was too upset to remain quietly in a chair. She longed to join in an active search for the yellow taxi. Common sense told her that the cab undoubtedly had reached its destination, yet she hoped she might pick up a clue.

"By questioning filling station attendants, we may be able to learn which way it went from the crossroads," she urged.

"Come on, then," said Salt.

Joe, faithful as ever, waited in his cab outside the mansion. Penny chose to ride beside him, as the front seat offered an un.o.bstructed view of the road.

The cab turned away from the mansion and swept down the familiar twisting highway. At the first bend, the bright headlights illuminated a patch of snow along the ditch. Penny thought she saw a small, dark object lying on the ground.

"Stop the car!" she cried.

Joe brought the cab to a standstill a little farther down the road.

Penny leaped out and ran back to the ditch. Lying just at its edge was a leather portfolio. A glance satisfied her that it had belonged to her father.

"Salt! Louise!" she shouted. "I've found Dad's satchel!"

The others came running. By that time Penny had examined the portfolio.

It was empty.

"Just as I thought," she muttered. "Those men were after the evidence Dad carried! And they got it, too!"

Salt and Joe examined the snowy ditches for a long distance. There were no footprints. They could only conclude that the portfolio had been thrown from a window of the moving cab. Evidently Mr. Parker remained a prisoner.

"Now that those men have what they want, maybe they'll release Dad,"

Penny said hopefully. "Don't you think so, Salt?"

The photographer glanced at Joe. Neither spoke.

"You believe they'll harm Dad!" Penny cried, reading their faces. "Maybe I'll never see him again--"

"Now Penny," Salt soothed, guiding her toward the taxi.

The cab rolled on, its tires crunching the hard-packed snow. At the crossroads, they met a police car and hailed it. Penny turned the empty portfolio over to one of the officers, explaining where it had been found.

"Every road is being watched," she was told in return. "The alarm has been broadcast throughout the State, too. If that yellow cab still is on the road, we'll get it."

For an hour longer, Penny and her party scoured roads in the vicinity of Riverview. Many times they stopped at filling stations and houses to inquire if a yellow cab had been seen to pa.s.s. Always the answer was in the negative.

"Don't you think we ought to go home?" Salt suggested at length. "For all we know, police may have found Mr. Parker by this time. We'd never learn about it while we're touring around."

"All right, let's go home," agreed Penny.

The taxi turned toward Riverview. Arriving at the outskirts, Joe chose a boulevard which wound through the park. The trees, each limb and twig glistening with ice, were very beautiful.

Penny gazed absently toward the frozen lake where a few boys were skating. Suddenly her gaze fastened upon a man who sat on a park bench beneath a street lamp. He wore no hat. His overcoat was unb.u.t.toned.

"That man!" she cried. "Salt, it looks like Dad! And it is he! It is!"

The man on the bench had turned slightly so that she was able to see his face.

Joe brought the cab to a halt with a jerk. Penny leaped out, followed by the others. The first to reach the bench, she fairly flung herself headlong at the disheveled man who sat so dejectedly alone.

"Oh, Dad, I've found you at last! How thankful I am you're safe!"

The man on the bench stared blankly at her.

"Who are you?" he asked in a dazed voice.

"Why, I'm Penny--your daughter."

"I have no daughter," the man answered bitterly. "No home. Nothing. Not even a name."

Salt, Louise and Joe reached the bench.

"Who are these people?" the man asked. "Why do they stare at me?"

"Why, Mr. Parker," said Salt, taking his arm. "You remember me, don't you?"

"Never saw you before in my life."

"You're my father--Anthony Parker," Penny said desperately. "You were in a bad accident. Don't you remember?"