CHAPTER 11 _BY A CEMETERY WALL_
Penny and Mrs. Weems reread the anonymous message many times, analyzingevery word.
"Plainly this note was written by a woman of some means for the paper isfine quality," Penny commented. "She must have sneaked up on the porchabout an hour ago."
"Call the police at once," urged Mrs. Weems. "They'll tell us what weshould do."
"Whoever left the note may be watching the house."
"We must risk that, Penny. I'll call the station myself."
While Mrs. Weems busied herself at the telephone, Penny switched off theliving-room light. She could see no one loitering anywhere near thehouse. Slipping on her coat, she went outside to inspect the footprintsleft on the porch. Only a few remained uncovered by snow. There was noway to tell in which direction the writer of the anonymous message hadgone.
Mrs. Weems had completed her telephone call by the time Penny reenteredthe house.
"Two detectives will be here in a few minutes," she revealed. "You keepwatch for them while I run upstairs and get into something more suitablethan a lounging robe."
Within ten minutes a car drew up in front of the house. Penny already wasacquainted with Detectives Dick Brandon and George Fuller, and had greatconfidence in their judgment. Anxiously she and Mrs. Weems waited whilethe men scanned the anonymous message.
"This might be only a crank note," commented Brandon. "Someone who's readof Mr. Parker's disappearance, and hopes to pick up a little cash."
"Then you don't think it came from the tire-theft gang?" Penny asked.
"Not likely. A professional kidnaper never would have sent a note likethis. The handwriting hasn't even been disguised."
"Will it be possible to trace the person?"
"It should be if we have a little luck." Detective Brandon pocketed theletter. "Now this is what you must do, Miss Parker. Offer a reward--sayfive thousand dollars--for information about your father."
"I'll get the story in every edition of the _Star_ tomorrow. And thenwhat am I to do?"
"You'll likely hear from the writer of this anonymous message, either byletter or telephone. If you contact the woman, arrange a meeting. Thennotify us immediately."
The discussion went on. When at length the two detectives left, Penny andMrs. Weems were hopeful that within another twenty-four hours they mightknow Mr. Parker's fate.
In the morning, after only five hours of sleep, Penny was back at herdesk. Her first act was to dictate the story offering afive-thousand-dollar reward for information about her father. Not even toSalt Sommers did she confide that she had received an anonymous message.
"Everything's going well here at the plant," he assured her. "HarleySchirr hasn't so much as stuck his nose through the door."
"I hope we're through with him," replied Penny soberly. "However, I don'tfeel that we are. By the way, no telegram has come from Jerry?"
"No message yet. Guess he didn't get your wire."
Throughout the morning, Penny worked tirelessly at her desk. Although herfather's office now was vacant, she did not take possession. Even whenshe occasionally entered to get papers from the file, it gave her aqueer, tight feeling. Her father's old neck-scarf still hung on theclothes tree. The rubbers he hated to wear stood heel to heel against thewall.
"Dad is alive and well," she told herself whenever her courage faltered."By tomorrow he'll be back. I know he will."
At noon Salt brought Penny a sandwich which she ate without leaving herdesk. As she struggled with the last mouthful, the telephone rang.
"Is this Miss Parker?" inquired a woman's voice.
Penny gripped the receiver tightly. Her pulse began to pound. Althoughshe had no real reason for thinking so, she suddenly knew that she was incontact with the mysterious writer of the anonymous message.
"Yes," she replied, keeping her voice calm.
"You offered a reward in your paper today. Five thousand dollars forinformation about Mr. Parker."
"True. Can you tell me anything about his disappearance?"
"I can if you're willing to pay the money."
"I'll be glad to do it."
"And no questions asked?"
"No questions," Penny promised. "If you actually can provide informationthat will help me find my father, I'll be happy to give you the money."
There was a long silence. Fearful lest the woman had lost her nerve andwas about to hang up, Penny said anxiously:
"Where shall I meet you? Will you come to my home?"
"That's too risky."
"Then where shall I meet you?"
"Tonight at eight. You know the cemetery out on Baldiff Road?"
"Baldiff Road?" Penny repeated doubtfully.
"You'll find it on a county map," the woman instructed. "Meet me at thecemetery wall promptly at eight. And don't bring anyone with you. Justthe money. I'll guarantee to tell you where you can find your father."
The receiver clicked.
Greatly excited, Penny made a futile attempt to trace the telephone call.Failing, she set off for the police station to talk to Detectives Fullerand Brandon.
"The woman must be a rank amateur or she wouldn't have arranged a meetingin the way she did!" Detective Brandon assured Penny. "Now let's find outwhere Baldiff Road is located."
Using a large map, he circled an area several miles south of Riverview.Penny was surprised to note that Baldiff Road branched off from the samedeserted thoroughfare which she and Louise had followed on the night ofthe blizzard. The cemetery, Oakland Hills, was situated perhaps a milefrom the old Harrison place where Mose Johnson had claimed to have seen aghost.
"It shouldn't be hard to nab the woman when she shows up," DetectiveFuller declared. "Dick and I will get there early and keep watch."
"Just what am I to do?" Penny inquired. "Shall I take the reward moneywith me?"
"We'll give you a package of fake money," the detective answered. "Driveto the cemetery alone at the appointed hour. If the woman shows up, talkto her, try to learn what she knows. We'll attend to the rest."
Penny returned home to consult with Mrs. Weems. How to reach the cemeterywas something of a problem. Her own car, minus its wheels, remained atthe Yacht Club, and Mr. Parker's automobile had been hauled to a garagefor extensive repairs.
"Can't you borrow a car from someone at the _Star_ office?" suggested thehousekeeper. "And do take a man with you when you drive to the cemetery."
"No, I must go alone," insisted Penny. "That part is very important."
In the end she was able to borrow Salt Sommer's coupe. A little afterseven o'clock she set off for Baldiff Road with the package of fake moneyin her possession. The night was not cold, but a stiff wind blew throughthe evergreens; whirlwinds of snow chased one another across theuntraveled road.
"What a dreary place for a meeting," Penny shivered as she glimpsed thebleak cemetery on a hilltop.
The area, a full half-mile from any house, was bounded by a highsnow-covered brick wall. Beyond the barrier, starlight revealed a clusterof rounding tombstones layered with white. No one was visible, neitherthe woman nor members of the police force.
Penny glanced at her watch. It lacked ten minutes of eight o'clock. Sheparked not far from the cemetery entrance and switched off the engine.
Twenty minutes elapsed. Nervous and cold, Penny climbed from the car andtramped back and forth to restore circulation. She had begun to doubtthat the woman would keep the appointment.
Then, coming swiftly down the road, she saw a strange looking figure. Theone who approached wore a long, tight-fitting coat. A hat with a darkveil covered the woman's face.
"There she is!" thought Penny, every nerve tense.
The woman came closer. While still some distance from the cemeteryentrance, she suddenly paused. Her head jerked sideways. Then to Penny'sdismay, she turned and fled toward the woods.
"Wait!" Penny shouted. "Don't be afraid! Wai
t!"
The woman paid no heed. Lifting her coat the better to run, shedisappeared among the trees.