Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 39

"Is this the place?" Penny asked doubtfully.

"Yes, it's the only warehouse within a mile. Queer the police aren't here to meet us."

The publisher waded through a shrunken snowdrift to a side door of the building. It was not locked and he pushed it open a crack. Far down a deserted corridor shone a dim lantern light.

"Oughtn't we to wait for the police?" Penny whispered uneasily.

Without answering, Mr. Parker started down the corridor. Penny quickly overtook him, padding along close at his side.

The corridor opened into a large storage room used in years past to house river merchandise. Now the walls were stacked high with tires.

On the ground floor stood a truck which several men were loading. Two others watched the work from a balcony overhead.

"Dad, do you recognize any of those men?" Penny whispered.

"No, but we've evidently come to the right place," he replied.

The men did not talk as they loaded the tires into the truck. For many minutes Penny and her father watched the work.

"That truck soon will be pulling out," Penny observed. "Why don't the police come?"

"I'm going to talk to those men," Mr. Parker decided. "You stay here."

Before Penny could protest, her father stepped boldly into the lighted room. Immediately work ceased. Every eye focused upon him.

"Good evening," said Mr. Parker casually.

The remark was greeted by a suspicious silence. Then one of the men, a red-faced fellow with a twisted lower lip, asked: "You lookin' fer somebody?"

"Just pa.s.sing through and noticed the light," replied Mr. Parker.

"Wondered what's going on."

"You can see, can't you?" growled one of the workmen. "We're trying to load tires. Now get out of here or I'll bounce one on your head! We got work to do."

Mr. Parker did not lack courage. However, the grim faces warned him that the men would not hesitate to make their promise good. With Penny unprotected in the corridor he could afford to take no chances.

"Sorry to have bothered you," he apologized, and retreated.

Penny waited nervously in the dark hallway. "Now what are we to do?" she whispered as her father rejoined her.

"We'll telephone again for the police. Let's get out of here."

Noiselessly they stole from the building. As they huddled in the lee of a brick wall, a car came down the road.

"That may be the police now!" Penny murmured hopefully.

The car turned in at the warehouse. A lone policeman alighted. As he came over to the building, Penny recognized him as Carl Burns.

"Where's the rest of your men?" Mr. Parker demanded. "Surely you don't expect to handle this tire gang single handed?"

"Aren't you a bit mixed up?" the policeman drawled.

"Mixed up?"

"I'm here on a routine inspection. This is a defense plant, or didn't you know?"

"A defense plant!" Mr. Parker echoed.

"A warehouse for one, I should say," corrected the policeman. "Tires intended for the Wilson war plant are earmarked and shipped out from here. A couple of trucks are going out tonight. I'm on the job to see they're not hijacked."

Penny gazed blankly at her father. If the policeman's information was correct, then they had nearly made a serious blunder.

"Guess we've been tricked," Mr. Parker muttered. "We were told this place operates in the Black Market."

"That's a laugh," responded the policeman. "Who told you that yarn?"

"I can't divulge my source."

"Well, you sure were taken for a ride!" the policeman taunted. "Mr.

Parker, why not let the police handle the crooks while you look after your newspaper business? You've not been yourself since you were in that auto accident."

Penny and her father resented the implication, but wisely allowed the remark to pa.s.s without comment. Decidedly crestfallen, they bade the policeman goodbye and returned to the iceboat.

"We've made ourselves ridiculous!" Mr. Parker commented bitterly as they shoved off down river. "Taken in by Sam Burkholder!"

"He probably lied to get rid of us," agreed Penny. "By this time he's likely removed every tire from Mattie's garage!"

Mr. Parker nodded and did not speak again. His failure to learn the ident.i.ty of the key men a.s.sociated with Ropes Mollinberg, had been a bitter disappointment.

Penny handled the _Icicle_ effortlessly and without much thought. Faster and faster the little boat traveled, its runners throwing up a powdery dust.

Then without warning the _Icicle_ struck something frozen in the ice.

Before Penny could make a move, the runners leaped from the surface. The boat tilted to a sharp angle, and went over.

Penny felt herself sliding. Snow filled her mouth, the sleeves of her coat. Her cap hung over one ear. Laughing shakily, she scrambled to her feet.

"Are you all right, Dad?" she called anxiously.

Then she saw him. Mr. Parker was sprawled flat on the ice a few yards away. He did not move. Terrified, she ran to him and grasped his arm.

"Dad! Speak to me!"

Mr. Parker stirred slightly. He raised a hand and rubbed his head. Slowly he pulled himself to a sitting position.

"Penny--" he mumbled, staring at her.

"Yes, Dad."