Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 12

"Any news from your father?"

Penny shook her head. As far as possible she was determined to keep her troubles to herself. Turning to leave the cage, she inquired:

"Where is Mose now? At home?"

"He's down in the boiler room, sittin' by the furnace. Says he's afraid to go home for fear his old lady will give him the works."

"Will you please ask Mose to wait there for me?" Penny requested. "I want to talk to him before he leaves the building."

"I'll be glad to tell him," the janitor said. Hesitating, he added: "If you've got any influence with Schirr, you might speak a good word for me."

"Why for you?" smiled Penny. "Surely your job is safe."

"I don't know about that," the janitor responded gloomily. "This morning when Schirr was comin' up in the elevator he said to me: 'Charley, there's going to be a few changes made around here. I'm going to cut out all the old, useless timber.' He looked at me kinda funny-like too. You know, I pa.s.sed my sixty-eighth birthday last August."

"Now don't start worrying, Charley," Penny cheered him. "We couldn't run this building without you."

Deeply troubled, she tramped down the hall to the newsroom. Reporters were in a fever of activity, pounding out their stories. Copy boys had a nervous, tense expression as they ran to and fro on their errands. Harley Schirr, however, was not in evidence.

"The Big Shot has sealed himself in your father's office!" informed one of the copy desk men in a muted voice. "Guess you heard about DeWitt?"

Penny nodded.

"The Great Genius has taken over, and how! This place is operating on an efficiency-plus basis now. Why, he's got me so c.o.c.keyed, I compose poetry."

Penny crossed to her father's office, tapping on the frosted gla.s.s door.

"Who is it?" demanded Schirr, his voice loud and unpleasant.

Penny spoke her name. In a moment the door opened, and the editor bowed and smiled. As if she were a guest of honor, he motioned her to a seat.

"We're doing everything we can to trace your father," he said. "So far, we've had no luck and the police admit they are baffled. I can't express to you how sorry I am."

To Penny's ears the words were words only, lacking sincerity. Determining to waste no time, she spoke of DeWitt's sudden illness.

"Oh yes, he'll be off duty for at least a month," replied Mr. Schirr.

"Naturally in his absence I have a.s.sumed charge. We put out a real paper this morning."

"I saw the front page."

Penny longed to say that the story about her father had displeased her.

However, she knew it would do no good. The account, once printed, could not be recalled. Far better, she reasoned, to let the matter pa.s.s.

"I hear Mose Johnson has been discharged," she remarked.

"Yes, we had to let him go." Mr. Schirr opened a desk drawer, helping himself to one of Mr. Parker's cigars. "Mose is indolent, irresponsible--a drag on the payroll."

"My father always liked him."

"Yes, he did seem to favor the old coot," agreed Schirr with a shrug.

"Well, thank you for dropping in, Miss Parker. If we have any encouraging news, I'll see that you are notified at once."

Well aware that she had been dismissed, Penny left the office. Schirr's att.i.tude angered her. He had made her feel unwelcome in her own father's newspaper plant.

As she closed the door behind her, she realized that nearly every eye in the apparently-busy newsroom, had focused upon her. Deliberately, she composed herself. Acting undisturbed, she swept past the rows of desks to a rear stairway leading to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

The janitor had delivered her message to Mose Johnson. She found the old colored man curled up fast asleep on a crate by the warm stove.

Penny touched Mose on the arm. He straightened up as suddenly as if someone had set off a fire-cracker.

"Oh, Miss Penny!" he beamed. "I'se suah su'prised at seein' you down heah in dis dumpy fu'nace room. But I thanks you just the same fo' wakin' me up out o' dat ghost dream."

"Were you having a ghost dream?" echoed Penny.

"Yes, Miss. Yo' see I was dreamin' about dat same ghost I saw last night on de way to work."

Penny, fully aware that Mose was directing the conversation where he wished it to go, hid a smile.

"I heard about that, Mose," she commented. "It must have been quite a lively ghost to make you two hours late."

"It suah was a lively ghost," Mose confirmed, bobbing his woolly head.

"Why, it walked around jest like a live pu'son."

"Aren't you being a bit superst.i.tious, Mose?"

"Deedy not, Miss. You is supe'st.i.tious when you sees a ghost dat ain't dar. But when you sees one dat is dar you ain't supe'st.i.tious. You is jest plain scared!"

"Suppose you tell me about it," Penny invited.

"Well, Miss Penny, it was like dis," began the old colored man. "At half past eleven I starts off fo' work same as always. I picks up mah lunch box de ole lady packed fo' me, an' scoots off toward de bus stop to get de 11:45. But I nevah get dar. When I was goin' down dat road runnin'

past de old Harrison place, I seen de ghost."

"The Harrison place?" interrupted Penny. "Where is that?"

"You know de road that winds up Craig Hill? It's out towa'd de boat club."

"You don't mean that big estate house with the fence surrounding it?"

"Dat's de place! Well, I seed dis heah ghost a cavortin' around behind de big iron gate dat goes in to de old Harrison place. De ghost nevah sees me, but I gets a good close-up of him. He was dressed in white and he was carryin' his own tombstone around in his arms jes' like it doan weigh nothin'."

"Oh, Mose!" protested Penny. "And then what happened? Did the ghost disappear?"

"No, Miss," grinned the colored man, "but I did! I turns tail an' runs as fast as a man half mah age could go, an' I nevah stops fo' nuthin' till I gits back to mah own place.

"When I tells mah ole lady what was goin' on she says, 'Mose, you sees white ghosts 'cause you been a drinkin' some mo' o' dat white-eye. It's twelve o'clock dis minute and you'se missed de last bus. Now you start walkin'! And if you is fired, don't nevah da'ken dat do' no mo'.'"

Old Mose drew a deep sigh. "And dat's jest what happened, Miss Penny. I ain't got no job an' no mo' home than a rabbit. I'se suah bubblin' oveh with trouble. It all come from seein' dat ghost you says I didn't see."