Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 33

"He had a few scratches, but nothing serious. We started for the hospital. Before we got there Mr. Parker changed his mind and decided he didn't want to go. He asked me to take him to a hotel or a rooming house."

"How strange!" exclaimed Penny. "Why didn't he ask to go home?"

"Because he didn't remember he had a home," Mrs. Botts replied. "I guess the accident must have stunned him. Anyway, he said his name was Lester Jones. Since he wanted a room and was willing to pay, I figured I could bring him here."

"So you turned my home into a hotel," Mr. Deming remarked rather grimly.

"I--I didn't think you would be back this winter. I wouldn't have done it, Mr. Deming, only I needed extra money. My sister in Kansas has been sick and I've had to send her funds."

"Mrs. Botts, I've always paid you well," her employer responded. "Had you told me you needed more money, I would have a.s.sisted you. But go on."

"Well, I brought Mr. Parker here and gave him a room. Right off I noticed how queer he acted. He didn't seem to be sure who he was, and he kept going through some papers he carried in a portfolio, trying to puzzle things out."

"All this while you made no attempt to contact police?" Mr. Deming questioned severely.

"I was wondering what to do when I saw a picture of Mr. Parker in the paper."

"And then you dropped an unsigned letter in my mailbox?" Penny probed.

Mrs. Botts knew that the net was closing tightly about her. Although she tried to slant her story in such a way that she would not appear too much at fault, the facts remained bald and ugly.

"Yes, I left a note at your house," she acknowledged reluctantly. "Later I telephoned and made an appointment to meet you at the cemetery."

"Why didn't you go through with it?" asked Penny. "Were you afraid?"

"I began to realize I might be held for something I never intended to do.

Folks started to watch this house. I tried to keep my roomer out of sight, but he'd do such queer things."

"Such as stroll in the garden at night," supplied Penny.

"Yes, I felt sorry for the poor man. He had such dreadful headaches and was so bewildered."

"Evidently you weren't sorry enough to tell him who he was," reprimanded Mr. Deming. "Really Mrs. Botts, I can't understand why you acted as you did."

"I just kept getting in deeper and deeper," the housekeeper whined. "Mr.

Parker paid me three dollars a day for his room and board. It didn't seem wrong to take the money as long as he was satisfied."

"Where is my father now?" Penny broke in. "That's the important thing."

Mrs. Botts regarded the girl with a trace of her former arrogance. "I don't know what became of Mr. Parker after he left here," she said coldly.

"You sent him away when you knew Mr. Deming was coming home!" Penny accused. "You thought you could keep the truth from your employer!"

"And I would have too, if it hadn't been for you!" Mrs. Botts flared.

"I've not done any harm, but you've made a lot out of it, and now I'll be discharged."

"You are quite right about that," agreed Mr. Deming in a quiet voice.

"However, there's far more at stake than a job, Mrs. Botts. Even now you don't seem to realize the seriousness of your offense."

"You won't turn me over to the police, will you, Mr. Deming?"

"It will not be in my hands to decide your fate. I strongly advise you to tell everything you know. Where did Mr. Parker go when he left here?"

"I've no idea." Mrs. Botts covered her face. "Oh, leave me alone--don't ask me any more questions. My head buzzes."

"A taxicab with two men in it was seen at the door earlier this evening,"

Penny went on relentlessly. "What have you to say about that?"

"They were friends who came for Mr. Parker."

"Your friends?"

"Well, no, I found the names and addresses in Mr. Parker's brief case.

They were men in the tire business."

This latest sc.r.a.p of information fairly stunned Penny. As she well knew, her father's portfolio contained only evidence pertaining to the tire-theft case.

"Who were the men?" she demanded.

"One was named Kurt Mollinberg--Ropes Mollinberg his friend called him. I forget the other."

"Ropes Mollinberg!" exclaimed Salt Sommers who had listened quietly to the story. "Why, he's one of the lowest rats in this town! Connected with the numbers racket and I don't know what else!"

"Why did you summon those men, of all persons?" Mr. Deming questioned.

"Well, I found their addresses in the portfolio. I had to get rid of Mr.

Parker before you came and I was afraid to call his house."

"You're a cruel, heartless woman!" accused Penny. "You sent my father away with two of the most notorious rascals in Riverview. Why, those men have been waiting for a chance to waylay him! They wanted to get possession of vital evidence Dad had in his portfolio."

"I didn't know," murmured Mrs. Botts. "When they came in the taxi, they offered me money."

"And you took it?"

"I tried not to, but they forced it on me."

Penny sprang to her feet. Only by the greatest effort of will could she keep from telling the housekeeper what she thought of her contemptible actions.

"You sent Dad away with those men," she repeated mechanically. "Didn't he realize who they were?"

"I told him they were his friends. I really thought so. He went willingly enough."

Penny was sick with despair. From the first, the situation had been grave, but now there seemed little hope. From Mrs. Botts' story she could only conclude that her father suffered from a brain injury. Even if she were fortunate enough to find him, he would not be likely to recognize her as his daughter.

"Oh, Salt," she pleaded, turning to the photographer. "What are we to do?

What can we do?"

His reply though prompt, was not completely rea.s.suring.