The Cry at Midnight Part 23

"Jake Cotton finally came. He's building the bookcases in your father's study."

"Oh, yes," recalled Penny. "I thought from the sound the place was being torn down!"

After removing her heavy ski suit and putting her skiing equipment away, the girl wandered into the study.

Jake Cotton, a short, wiry old man, was gathering up his tools preparatory to leaving. Boards of various length were strewn over the carpet.

"Well, reckon I'll call it a day," he remarked. "It'll take me all tomorrow to finish the job. That is, if I can arrange to get back."

"You have another job?" Penny inquired.

"I've been doing a little work for them folks that moved into the monastery," the carpenter explained. "The man that owns the place pays well, but he's mighty fussy. Wants the work done the minute he says!"

"I suppose a great deal should be done out there, the building is so old."

"It's a wreck!" Jake Cotton said, picking up his tool kit. "A dozen workmen couldn't put it in liveable shape in two weeks! They want such trivial things done too, while they let more important repairs wait."

"For instance?"

"Well, the first job the monks had me do was fix the old freight lift into the cellar!"

"I didn't know the building had one," said Penny in surprise. "Is it on the first floor?"

"In the old chapel room off the cloister," Jake explained. "Least, that's what I took it to be. They're using it for a bedroom now. I ask you, what would any sensible person want with a freight lift in a bedroom?"

"It does seem unusual. Why was it originally installed in the chapel?"

"I heard it was done when the building was built," Mr. Cotton told her.

"Years ago, they had burial services in the chapel, and caskets were lowered to the crypt below."

"How does the lift operate?"

"It's just a section of flooring that lowers when the machinery is turned on," the carpenter explained. "With a carpet over the boards, you wouldn't know it was there."

"And for what purpose is it to be used now?"

Mr. Cotton had started for the doorway. Penny trailed him to the front porch, eager to learn more.

"I couldn't figure out what the new owners aim to do with the lift," the carpenter replied, pausing on the steps. "Reckon they'll use it to lower heavy luggage and maybe unwanted furniture into the bas.e.m.e.nt for storage."

"Did you see the crypt?"

"Didn't get down there. The monk had his own man, a hunchback, oil up the machinery and put it in working order. I only repaired the flooring."

"So the room is used as a bedroom now?"

"Looked that way to me. Leastwise, I saw a big bed in there. One of them old fas.h.i.+oned contraptions with a lot of dust-catching draperies over it."

"Not a canopied bed!"

"Reckon it was," Mr. Cotton answered carelessly. "Well, see you tomorrow if I'm not called back to the monastery to do another rush job! So long!"

Before the startled Penny could ask another question, he hurried off down the darkening street.

CHAPTER 15 _FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW_

Jake Cotton's careless remark about the canopied bed at the monastery filled Penny with deep excitement.

"Perhaps Old Julia isn't as crazy as she seems!" she thought. "The place does have a canopied bed, and she may have been trying to tell me something about it!"

Now more than ever, Penny was determined to revisit the monastery that night. Many unanswered questions plagued her. Not only was she curious to witness a cult ceremony, but also she wished to learn the ident.i.ty of the strange girl who lived on the premises. And she hoped to view the chapel room with the freight lift and if possible, to see the canopied bed of which Old Julia had prattled so unintelligibly.

Hastening into the house, Penny sought Mrs. Weems in the kitchen.

"Anything I can do to help with dinner?" she inquired.

The housekeeper, in the act of putting a kettle of potatoes on the fire to boil, eyed her with instant suspicion.

"And where do you plan to go when dinner is over, may I ask?" she inquired.

"Only out to the monastery."

"Again! You came from there not a half hour ago!"

"Oh, Mr. DeWitt a.s.signed me to cover a cult meeting tonight," Penny a.s.sured her hastily.

"And your father approves?"

"Haven't seen him yet. He ought to be coming home any minute now."

"Your father telephoned he will be detained," Mrs. Weems explained. "I doubt he'll be home before nine o'clock. So the monastery expedition is out of the question!"

"Oh, Mrs. Weems!" Penny was aghast. "I promised Mr. DeWitt! He's depending on the story."

"That's neither here nor there," the housekeeper replied, though she softened a little. "I simply can't allow you to go to the monastery alone at night--"

"Oh, I'll start right away--just as soon as I can grab a bite of dinner,"

Penny broke in eagerly. "If Father Benedict refuses me permission to see the ceremony, then I can come back."

"You can, but will you?"

"Eventually, at least," Penny grinned. "Oh, Mrs. Weems, have a heart!

Can't I telephone Dad somewhere?"

The housekeeper shook her head. "He's in an important meeting and can't be disturbed until it's over."