The Clock Strikes Thirteen - BestLightNovel.com
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"How dreadful!" Mrs. Weems exclaimed, genuinely shocked.
"Penny, if you insist upon reading another line, I shall leave the table," Mr. Parker snapped. "I've had quite enough of Ben Bowman."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Penny apologized, slipping the message into her pocket.
"I can appreciate that this doesn't seem very funny to you."
The telegram was not mentioned again. Nevertheless, Mr. Parker's good humor had given way to moody silence, contributing no cheer to the evening meal. Mrs. Weems kept glancing uneasily at her employer, wondering if she had offended him. Only Penny, whose appet.i.te never failed, seemed thoroughly at ease.
"Dad," she said suddenly. "I have an idea how Ben Bowman might be trailed!"
"Never mind telling me," her father answered. "I prefer not to hear his name mentioned."
"As you like," she shrugged. "I'll shroud myself in mystery and silence as I work. But when the case is ended, I'll present my bill!"
Actually, Penny held slight hope that ever she would be able to turn the elusive Ben Bowman over to the police. The wily fellow was far too clever ever to file two messages from the same telegraph office, and very seldom from the same city. However, the town of Claymore, from which the last message had been sent, was only fifty-five miles away. It had occurred to her that by going there she might obtain from telegraph officials the original message filed.
"In that way I'd at least have Ben Bowman's signature," she reflected.
"While it wouldn't be much, it represents a start."
Always, Penny's greatest problem was insufficient time. Greatly as she desired to drive to Claymore, she knew it would be out of the question for several days. Not only must arrangements for the orphans' melon party be completed, but other interests demanded attention.
Temporarily dismissing Ben Bowman from her mind, Penny devoted herself to plans for the outing. Cars easily were obtained, and the following night, sixty excited orphans were transported to the Davis farm. With shrieks of laughter, the boys and girls took possession of the melon patch.
"Pick all you like from the vines," Penny called, "but don't touch any of the crated ones."
In the yard not far from the storage barn stood a truck loaded with melons which were ready for the market.
"This must represent the cream of Mrs. Preston's crop," Jerry remarked, lifting the canvas which covered the load. "Maybe she'll be luckier than her neighbors, the Doolittles."
"What happened to them?" Penny asked, surprised by the remark.
"Don't you ever read the _Star_?"
"I didn't today. Too busy. Tell me about the Doolittles, Jerry."
"Mr. Doolittle was taking a load of melons to market. Another truck brushed him on the River road. The melon truck upset, and the entire s.h.i.+pment was lost."
"Can't he get damages?"
"Doolittle didn't learn who was responsible."
"Was it an accident or done deliberately?" Penny asked thoughtfully.
"Sheriff Daniels thinks it was an accident. I'm inclined to believe the Black Hoods may have had something to do with it."
"Why should anyone wish to make trouble for Mr. Doolittle, Jerry? All his life he has stayed on his little truck farm, and strictly attended to his own affairs."
"There's only one possible reason so far as I know," the reporter answered. "Not long ago Doolittle refused to join the Holloway County Cooperative, an organization that markets crops for the truck farmers."
"And you believe the Hoods may be connected with the Cooperative?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Jerry replied hastily. "Fact is, the Holloway Cooperative always has had a good reputation."
"There's no question the Preston barn was destroyed by the Hoods," Penny said reflectively. "Although the evidence pointed to Clem Davis, I've never felt satisfied he was guilty."
"Same here," agreed Jerry. "Another thing, I keep mulling over what that melon sorter said yesterday."
"You mean his hint that something might happen to Mrs. Davis' crop?"
"Yeah. Maybe he knew more than he let on."
"The Hoods will have to work fast if they destroy the Davis melons,"
Penny rejoined. "Besides, didn't the sheriff uncover proof that Clem Davis is a member of the organization?"
"That's what he says. I wonder about that too."
Not far from the truck was a small pile of discarded melons, culls which were misshapen or over-ripe. Selecting one, Jerry tossed it into the air and caught it.
"Just the right size for a hand grenade," he remarked. "Watch!"
He threw the melon hard against the barn. It burst against the siding, breaking into a dozen fragments and leaving an unsightly blotch of oozing seeds.
"Jerry, you shouldn't do that," Penny chided. "Mrs. Davis won't like it."
"Okay, I'll be good," the reporter promised. "The temptation was just too strong to resist."
By this time, the hubbub in the melon patch had slightly subsided as the youngsters gained their fill of cantaloupe. Soon inst.i.tution officials began to pilot the children to the waiting cars. Several lads protested at the early termination of the party.
"Do let the boys stay awhile longer," Penny pleaded. "Jerry and I will bring them back in a few minutes."
"Very well," the matron consented. "But don't allow them to eat so many melons that they will be sick."
The responsibility of looking after six orphans weighed heavily upon Penny. After the cars had driven away, she and Jerry patrolled the patch, trying vainly to maintain order. With inst.i.tution authorities no longer present, the boys proceeded to enjoy themselves. They ran races down the furrows, la.s.soed one another with vines, and pelted ripe melons against the fence posts.
"Hey, you little hoodlums!" Jerry shouted. "Cut it out or you'll go back to the Home p.r.o.nto!"
"Says who?" mocked one saucy little fellow in a piping voice.
"Quiet everyone!" commanded Penny suddenly. "Listen!"
In the silent night could be heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. Jerry whirled around, gazing toward the entrance to the lane. Two hors.e.m.e.n, black hoods covering their faces, rode at a hard gallop toward the storage barn.
CHAPTER 11 _PENNY'S CLUE_