Behind the Green Door Part 1

Behind the Green Door.

by Mildred A. Wirt.

CHAPTER 1.

TROUBLE FOR MR. PARKER

"Watch me coming down the mountain, Mrs. Weems! This one is a honey! An open christiana turn with no brakes dragging!"

Penny Parker, clad in a new black and red snowsuit, twisted her agile young body sideways, causing the small rug upon which she stood to skip across the polished floor of the living room. She wriggled her slim hips again, and it slipped in the opposite direction toward Mrs. Weems who was watching from the kitchen doorway.

"Coming down the mountain, my eye!" exclaimed the housekeeper, laughing despite herself. "You'll be coming down on your head if you don't stop those antics. I declare, you've acted like a crazy person ever since your father rashly agreed to take you to Pine Top for the skiing."

"I have to break in my new suit and limber up my muscles somehow," said Penny defensively. "One can't practice outdoors when there's no snow. Now watch this one, Mrs. Weems. It's called a telemark."

"You'll reduce that rug to shreds before you're through," sighed the housekeeper. "Can't you think of anything else to do?"

"Yes," agreed Penny cheerfully, "but it wouldn't be half as much fun. How do you like my suit?" She darted across the room to preen before the full length mirror.

A red-billed cap pulled at a jaunty angle over her blond curls, Penny made a striking figure in the well tailored suit of dark wool. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of youth and it was easy for her to smile. She was an only child, the daughter of Anthony Parker, editor and publisher of the _Riverview Star_, and her mother had died when she was very young.

"It looks like a good, practical suit," conceded the housekeeper.

Penny made a wry face. "Is that the best you can say for it? Louise Sidell and I shopped all over Riverview to get the snappiest number out, and then you call it _practical_."

"Oh, you know you look cute in it," laughed Mrs. Weems. "So what's the use of telling you?"

Before Penny could reply the telephone rang and the housekeeper went to answer it. She returned to the living room a moment later to say that Penny's father was in need of free taxi service home from the office.

"Tell him I'll be down after him in two shakes of a kitten's tail!" Penny called, making for the stairway.

She took the steps two at a time and had climbed halfway out of the snowsuit by the time she reached the bedroom. A well aimed kick landed the garment on the bed, and then because it was very new and very choice she took time to straighten it out. Seizing a dress blindly from the closet, she wriggled into it and ran downstairs again.

"Some more skiing equipment may come while I'm gone," she shouted to Mrs.

Weems who was in the kitchen. "I bought a new pair of skis, a couple of poles, three different kinds of wax and a pair of red mittens."

"Why didn't you order the store sent out and be done with it?" responded the housekeeper dryly.

Penny pulled on her heavy coat and hurried to the garage where two cars stood side by side. One was a s.h.i.+ning black sedan of the latest model, the other, a battered, unwashed vehicle whose reputation was as discouraging as its appearance. "Leaping Lena," as Penny called her car, had an annoying habit of running up repair bills, and then repaying its long suffering owner by refusing to start on cold winter days.

"Lena, you get to stay in your cozy nest this time," Penny remarked, climbing into her father's sedan. "Dad can't stand your rattle and bounce."

The powerful engine started with a blast. While Mrs. Weems watched anxiously from the kitchen window, Penny shot the car out backwards, wheeling it around the curve of the driveway with speed and ease. She liked to handle her father's automobile, and since he did not enjoy driving, she frequently called at the newspaper office to take him home.

The _Star_ building occupied a block in the downtown section of Riverview. Penny parked the car beside the loading dock at the rear, and took an elevator to the editorial rooms. Nearly all of the desks were deserted at this late hour of the afternoon. But Jerry Livingston, one of the best reporters on the paper, was still pecking out copy on a noisy typewriter.

"Hi, Penny!" he observed, grinning as she brushed past his desk. "Have you caught any more witch dolls?"

"Not for the front page," she flung back at him. "My newspaper career is likely to remain in a state of _status quo_ for the next two weeks. Dad and I are heading for Pine Top to dazzle the natives with our particular brand of skiing. Don't you envy us?"

"I certainly would, if you were going."

"If!" exclaimed Penny indignantly. "Of course we're going! We leave Thursday by plane. Dad needs a vacation and this time I know he won't try to wiggle out of it at the last minute."

"Well, I hope not," replied Jerry in a skeptical voice. "Your father needs a good rest, Penny. But I have a sneaking notion you're in for a disappointment again."

"What makes you say that, Jerry? Dad promised me faithfully--"

"Sure, I know," he nodded, "but there have been developments."

"An important story?"

"No, it's more serious than that. But you talk with him. I may have the wrong slant on the situation."

Not without misgiving, Penny went on to her father's private office and tapped on the door.

"Come in," he called in a gruff voice, and as she entered, waved her into a chair. "You arrived a little sooner than I expected, Penny. Mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Not at all."

Studying her father's lean, tired-looking face, Penny decided that something _was_ wrong. He seemed unusually worried and nervous.

"A hard day, Dad?" she asked.

Mr. Parker finished straightening a sheaf of papers before he glanced up.

"Yes, I hadn't intended to tell you until later, but I may as well. I'm afraid our trip is off--at least as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh, Dad!"

"It's a big disappointment, Penny. The truth is, I'm in a spot of trouble."

"Isn't that the usual condition of a newspaper publisher?"

"Yes," he smiled, "but there are different degrees of trouble, and this is the worst possible. The _Star_ has been sued for libel, a matter of fifty odd thousand."

"Fifty thousand!" gasped Penny. "But of course you'll win the suit!"

"I'm not at all sure of it." Anthony Parker spoke grimly. "My lawyer tells me that Harvey Maxwell has a strong case against the paper."

"Harvey Maxwell?" repeated Penny thoughtfully. "Isn't he the man who owns the Riverview Hotel?"

"Yes, and a chain of other hotels and lodges throughout the country.

Harvey Maxwell is a rather well known sportsman. He lives lavishly, travels a great deal, and in general is a hard, shrewd business man."

"He's made a large amount of money from his hotels, hasn't he?"