CHAPTER XI
A Threat
Betty Davis wheeled quickly about. She laughed to cover her confusion.
"Why, Miss Nichols! How you startled me!"
"I didn't mean to do that," Penny smiled. "If you're on your way home,can't I take you there in my car?"
The girl hesitated, and involuntarily, her eyes wandered toward thecafe. Then she stepped into the car.
"It's very kind of you to take me home, Miss Nichols. I'm not outalone this late in the evening as a rule, but something important cameup. I searching for my brother."
"Jimmie?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I think your father mentioned his name."
"He didn't say anything about----" Betty broke off, finishing with anembarrassed laugh: "but then I know he didn't."
"Your father only mentioned that he had a son by that name," Pennysaid, eyeing her companion curiously.
"Jimmie is a good boy but he's caused father a great deal of worry,"Betty added, feeling that some explanation was required. "Lately he'sfallen in with bad companions."
"That is a pity," Penny murmured. "You mentioned that you were lookingfor him. Can't I help you?"
"Oh, no," Betty told her hastily, "I don't think I'll bother after all."
Penny permitted the matter to drop but she was not mistaken insuspecting that the reason her companion had decided to give up thesearch was because she already had located her brother at the cafe.
"Won't you come in for a few minutes?" Betty urged when the car stoppedat her door. "Father isn't due home until late tonight and I'm allalone."
"I might stop a little while," Penny agreed.
Despite Betty's somewhat queer actions, she had liked the girl from thevery first, and was eager to become better acquainted.
The Davis home was modestly furnished, yet with excellent taste. Pennycould not refrain from referring to the clever color scheme which hadbeen carried out so successfully in the living room.
"I'm glad you like it," Betty smiled. "You see, I'm studying to be aninterior decorator."
"Why, how interesting."
"I attend night school," Betty explained. "Or rather I did. Just nowFather is a little pressed for money so I've given it up for a fewmonths."
"I hope you'll be able to go on with it again."
"Yes, so do I, for it's the one ambition of my life. I think afterJimmie is a little older it will be easier. Just now he's at the agewhere he feels he must have fine clothes and plenty of spending money."
"Perhaps you're too indulgent a sister," Penny smiled.
"Jimmie is only a year younger than I," Betty explained, "but sinceMother died five years ago, I've always felt responsible for him.Lately I've been terribly worried."
"On account of the company he keeps?"
"Yes, that and other things." Betty arose and nervously crossed overto the fireplace. "I don't mean to unburden myself upon you, butlately Jimmie has been doing wild things. Father doesn't half suspectthe truth. I'm half sick with trying to decide if I should tell him ornot."
"Probably it would relieve your mind if you did," Penny advised kindly.
"Yes, but Father has always taken such pride in Jimmie. I can't bearto hurt him."
"Perhaps he could bring your brother to his senses."
"I'm afraid it may be almost too late. Jimmie is so headstrong. Hewon't listen to anyone. He's changed so much the last few months."
"It seems to me that your father should know the truth," Penny saidquietly.
Betty Davis' face had grown slightly pale.
"I realize I should tell him," she acknowledged, "but I can't. There'sa special reason why--don't ask me to explain." Abruptly, she tried tochange the subject, saying lightly: "My brother is very handsome, Ithink. Would you care to see his photograph?"
"Indeed I would," Penny returned politely.
She waited while Betty went into an adjoining room after it. As thegirl returned, a car was driving slowly past the house.
"That must be Father," Betty declared, moving toward the window.
Penny heard the automobile halt at the curbing. The next instant ahard object crashed through the windowpane, dropping with a thud atBetty's feet. Almost by a miracle she had escaped being struck by theflying splinters of glass.
Penny sprang to her feet, rushing to the door. She caught only afleeting glimpse of the retreating car.
Betty was staring at a piece of paper which lay upon the carpet. Ithad been wrapped around a small stone.
"You read it," she begged Penny. "I'm afraid."
Penny reached down and picked it up. The message had been printed oncheap brown wrapping paper. It bore the warning:
"JEROME DAVIS, THIS IS THE LAST WARNING YOU WILL RECEIVE FROM US. WE GIVE YOU TWENTY-FOUR HOURS TO CHANGE YOUR MIND."
"It's a threat from the Molberg gang!" Betty declared tensely as Pennyfinished reading the message aloud. "Oh, I'll never feel easy againuntil every member of that outfit has been placed behind bars! What doyou think they will do when Father defies them?"
"Probably nothing," Penny comforted. "Most anonymous notes are sent bycowards and the threats seldom carried out. At least Dad doesn'tregard them very seriously. He's been threatened by the Molberg gangtoo."
"And have they made no attempt to harm him?" Betty asked.
"Not to my knowledge. Dad seems more than able to look after himself,and I'm certain your father knows how to protect himself too."
"He should," Betty admitted. "He's one of the best marksmen on thepolice force."
"Then I think Rap Molberg is the one who should be on his guard," Pennysmiled.
By making light of the threatening note she tried to relieve Betty ofanxiety. Her efforts were not very successful. When she left thehouse a half hour later the girl was still excited and overwrought.
Not until Penny was nearly home did it occur to her that she hadforgotten to look at the photograph of Jimmie Davis.
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter," she thought.
As she drove the roadster into the garage, Mrs. Gallup came down thepath to meet her.
"I'm sorry to be so late," Penny said quickly before the housekeepercould take her to task. "A million and one things detained me. Dad'shome, I suppose?"
"No, he isn't. But someone has been trying to get you on the telephonefor the past hour."
"Probably it was Dad."
"It may have been, but it didn't sound like his voice. Listen, isn'tthat the phone now?"
They could hear the bell ringing inside the house. Penny ran to answerit. As she took down the receiver, she was greeted by a masculinevoice. But it was not the detective who had telephoned.
"Is this Miss Nichols?" she was asked.
"Yes," Penny returned quietly, aware from the other's tone that shemust prepare herself for bad news.
"Don't be alarmed, Miss Nichols, but your father has been hurt."
"Oh! Badly?"
"We're not sure yet. He is still unconscious. Can you come at once?"
"Yes, yes, of course! Which hospital?"
"He has been taken to a private home."
"Then tell me how to get there."
"It won't be necessary. A taxi has already been sent for you. Itshould be there by this time."
"I'll be waiting," Penny promised.
She hung up the receiver and turned to the housekeeper who was hoveringanxiously at her elbow.
"Dad's been hurt," she said tersely to hide her emotion. "I don't knowhow badly for I couldn't learn the details. I must go to him at once."
"Oh, you poor thing," Mrs. Gallup swept the trembling girl into herarms.
They clung to one another for an instant, then Penny resolutely brushedaway her tears.
"It probably isn't as bad as we fear," she said hopefully.
Catching up her pocketbook from the table, she hurried out upon theporch to wait for the taxicab.