The Cry at Midnight Part 17

The carriage of the machine began to move and the telegram was typed on the long roll of yellow copy paper.

"Why, it's for you, Dad!" Penny said in surprise. "A wire from Chicago."

"Chicago?" Mr. Parker repeated. "Guess we'd better wait and see whom it's from. By the way, how did you and Mr. Ayling make out this afternoon at the monastery?"

"I haven't seen him since yesterday, Dad. When I went to the hotel to meet him, he wasn't there."

"Busy with other matters perhaps."

"I suppose so," Penny agreed, "but he might have notified me. He missed a lot of excitement by not going along."

Before she could tell her father about the skiing accident, the teletype message was completed. Mr. Parker ripped it from the machine. He whistled softly.

"Why, this wire is from Mr. Ayling!"

"Then he's in Chicago!"

"Apparently so. Listen to his message: 'CALLED HERE UNEXPECTEDLY BY TELEGRAM SIGNED MRS. HAWTHORNE. TELEGRAM PROVED A FAKE. RETURNING TO RIVERVIEW IMMEDIATELY TO RESUME SEARCH.'"

CHAPTER 12 _THE LOCKED DOOR_

"Well, what d'you know!" Penny exclaimed as she peered over her father's shoulder to reread the telegram. "So that explains why Mr. Ayling didn't meet me today!"

"If he takes the first train back, he should get in early tomorrow," her father said. "I wonder who tricked him into going to Chicago?"

"Whoever did it probably figured he'd give up the search for Mrs.

Hawthorne in disgust," Penny added excitedly. "Dad, this case is getting more interesting every minute!"

Mr. Parker smiled but made no comment as he pocketed the telegram.

Together he and Penny went downstairs to the waiting car.

"Maybe I could help Mr. Ayling by inquiring around the city if anyone has seen Mrs. Hawthorne or her granddaughter," Penny suggested as she drove with skill through dense downtown traffic.

"I thought Mr. Ayling checked all hotels."

"Only the larger ones, I imagine. Anyhow, I might run into interesting information."

"Go ahead, if you like," her father encouraged her.

Early the next morning, Penny set off alone to visit a dozen hotels. At none of them had anyone by the name of Hawthorne registered.

"She may have used an a.s.sumed name," Penny thought, a trifle discouraged.

"In that case, I'll never find her."

Hopeful that Mr. Ayling might arrive on the morning train, she went to the Union Railroad Station. Among those waiting on the platform for the incoming Chicago Express was Winkey, the hunchback.

He did not see Penny, and in the large crowd, she soon lost sight of him.

Finally, the train pulled in. But Mr. Ayling did not alight from either the coaches or pullmans. Feeling even more depressed, Penny went home for lunch.

Several times during the afternoon, she telephoned Mr. Ayling's hotel to inquire if he had arrived. Each time she was told he had not checked in.

"Wonder what's keeping him in Chicago?" Penny mused. "I hope he didn't change his mind about coming back here."

Throughout the day, she kept thinking about the monastery and its strange occupants. The skiing incident of the previous afternoon had convinced her that Winkey at least was cruel and dishonest. As to Father Benedict's character, she could not make up her mind.

"Possibly he doesn't know how surly and mean his servant acts," she thought. "Someone ought to tell him!"

Penny longed to return to the monastery, but hesitated to go there for the deliberate purpose of reporting Winkey's misbehavior.

"Mr. Ayling may return here tomorrow," she told herself. "Then perhaps we can drive out there together."

However, a check of the Riverview Hotel the following morning, disclosed that the investigator still had not arrived in the city.

Decidedly mystified by his failure to return, Penny clomped into the Parker kitchen after having spent an hour downtown. To her surprise she saw that during her absence a bulky package had been delivered.

"It came for you a half hour ago," Mrs. Weems explained.

"For me! Must be a mistake. I've ordered nothing from any store."

Plainly the package bore her name, so she tore off the heavy wrappings.

Inside was a pair of new hickory skis.

"Dad must have sent them!" she exclaimed. "Just what I need."

However, the skis were not from her father. Among the wrappings she found a card with Mr. Eckenrod's name.

"Try these for size," the artist had scrawled in an almost illegible hand. "Thanks for pulling me out of a hole! My leg is mending rapidly, so don't forget our date!"

"Oh, the darling!" Penny cried. "Mighty decent of him to replace the skis I broke! Only I'm afraid I won't get to use them many times. It's thawing fast today."

Slipping her slim ankles through the leather bindings, she glided awkwardly about the polished linoleum.

"How soon's luncheon?" she asked impatiently. "I want to go skiing right away!"

"I'll put it on after I've telephoned Jake Cotton," the housekeeper promised. "He failed to show up here today."

"Jake Cotton, the carpenter?"

"Yes, your father ordered another bookcase for the den. Jake promised to build it last week. He's always putting other jobs ahead."

After telephoning, Mrs. Weems toasted sandwiches and made hot chocolate.

Penny ate rapidly, as was her habit when thinking of other matters.