CHAPTER 4 _A NEW CARETAKER_
"I declare, getting folks up becomes a harder task each morning,"declared Mrs. Maud Weems, who had served as the Parker housekeeper foreleven years, as she brought a platter of bacon and eggs to the breakfasttable. "I call and call until I'm fairly hoarse, and all I get inresponse is a few sleepy mutters and mumbles. The food is stone cold."
"It's good all the same," praised Penny, pouring herself a large-sizeglass of orange juice. "There's not a woman in Riverview who can equalyour cooking."
"I'm in no mood for blarney this morning," the housekeeper warned. "Imust say quite frankly that I don't approve of the irregular hours inthis house."
"Penny and I did get in a little late last night," Mr. Parker admitted,winking at his daughter.
"A little late! It must have been at least four o'clock when you came in.Oh, I heard you tiptoe up the stairs even if you did take off yourshoes!"
"It was only a few minutes after two," Penny corrected. "I'm sorrythough, that we awakened you."
"I hadn't been asleep," Mrs. Weems replied, somewhat mollified by theapology. "I'm sure I heard every stroke of the clock last night."
"You did!" Penny exclaimed with sudden interest. "How many times wouldyou say it struck at midnight? I mean the Hubell Tower clock."
"Such a question!" Mrs. Weems protested, thoroughly exasperated.
"It's a very important one," Penny insisted. "My reputation and fivegallons of gas are at stake, so weigh well your words before you speak."
"The clock struck twelve, of course!"
"There, you see, Penny," Mr. Parker grinned triumphantly. "Does thatsatisfy you?"
"Mrs. Weems," Penny persisted, "did you actually count the strokes?"
"Certainly not. Why should I? The clock always strikes twelve, thereforeit must have struck that number last night."
"I regret to say, you've just disqualified yourself as a witness in thiscase," Penny said, helping herself to the last strip of bacon on theplatter. "I must search farther afield for proof."
"What are you talking about anyhow?" the housekeeper protested. "Itdoesn't make sense to me."
As she finished breakfast, Penny explained to Mrs. Weems how thedisagreement with her father had arisen. The housekeeper displayed slightinterest in the tale of the clock, but asked many questions about thefire at the Preston farm.
"That reminds me!" Mr. Parker suddenly exclaimed before Penny hadfinished the story. "I want to 'phone Sheriff Daniels before I start forthe office. Excuse me, please."
Pushing aside his chair, he went hurriedly to the living room. Notwishing to miss any news which might have a bearing on the affair of theprevious night, Penny trailed him, hovering close to the telephone.However, her father's brief comments told her almost nothing.
"What did you learn?" she inquired eagerly as he hung up the receiver."Was Clem Davis arrested last night?"
"No, it turned out about as we expected. Apparently, Davis knew thesheriff was looking for him. Anyway, he never returned home."
Jamming on his hat, Mr. Parker started for the front door. Penny pursuedhim to the garage, carrying on a running conversation.
"This rather explodes my theory about Clem not being guilty," sheremarked ruefully. "If he were innocent, one would expect him to face thesheriff and prove an alibi."
"Davis can't be far away," Mr. Parker responded, getting into the maroonsedan. "The sheriff will nab him soon."
Penny held open the garage doors, watching as her father backed down thedriveway, scraping the bark of a tree whose gnarled trunk already boremany scars. Before she could reenter the house, Louise Sidell, adark-haired, slightly plump girl, who was Penny's most loyal friend,sauntered into the yard.
"Hi!" she greeted cheerily. "About ready?"
"Ready for what?" Penny asked, her face blank.
Louise regarded her indignantly. "If that isn't just like you, PennyParker! You make promises and then forget them. Don't you remembertelling Mrs. Van Cleve of the Woman's Club that we would help sell tagstoday, for the Orphans' Home summer camp?"
"Now that you remind me, I have a vague recollection. How many are we tosell?"
"Twenty-five at not less than a quarter each. I have the tags, but we'llhave to work fast or the other girls will sell all the easy customers."
"I'll be with you in two shakes," Penny promised, heading for the house."Wait until I tell Mrs. Weems where I am going."
Returning a moment later with the car ignition keys, she found Louisestaring disconsolately at the empty space in the garage.
"What became of your new car?" asked her chum.
"Dad's auto is in the garage for repairs," Penny explained briefly. "Ididn't have the heart to make him walk."
"I should think not!" laughed Louise. "Imagine having three cars in onefamily--if you can call this mess of junk by such a flattering name."Depreciatingly, she kicked the patched tire of a battered but brightlypainted flivver which had seen its heyday in the early thirties.
"Don't speak so disrespectfully of my property," Penny chided, slidinginto the high, uncomfortable seat. "Leaping Lena is a good car even ifshe is a bit creaky in the joints. She still takes us places."
"And leaves us stranded," Louise added with a sniff. "Oh, well, let'sgo--if we can."
Penny stepped on the starter and waited expectantly. The motor sputteredand coughed, but true to form, would not start. Just as the girls wereconvinced that they must walk, there was an explosive backfire, and thenthe car began to quiver with its familiar motion.
"You should sell Lena to the government for a cannon," Louise teased asthey rattled down the street. "What do you burn in this smoke machine?Kerosene?"
"Never mind the slurs. Where do we start our business operations?"
"We've been assigned to the corner of Madison and Clark streets," Louiseanswered as she separated the yellow benefit tags into two evenly dividedpiles. "It shouldn't take us long to get rid of these."
Neither of the girls regretted their promise to help with the tag-daysale, for the cause was a worthy one. The campaign to raise sufficientfunds with which to purchase and equip an orphans' summer camp site, hadbeen underway many weeks, and was headed by Mrs. Van Cleve, a prominentclub woman.
Parking Leaping Lena at the designated street corner, the girls went towork with a will. All their lives they had lived in Riverview, and Pennyin particular, had a wide acquaintance. Accosting nearly everyone whopassed, she soon disposed of all her tags, and then sold many for herchum.
"They've gone fast," Louise declared as the morning wore on. "We haveonly one left."
"Don't sell that tag!" Penny said impulsively. "I have it earmarked for acertain person--Old Seth McGuire."
"The caretaker at the Hubell Clock Tower?" Louise asked in astonishment.
"Yes, he always liked children and I think he would be glad to help."
"But why drive so far?" protested Louise. "I'm sure we could dispose ofit right here, and much quicker."
"Oh, I have a special reason for going to see Seth," Penny answeredcarelessly. "I'll tell you about it on the way there."
From her chum's manner, Louise deducted that something interesting layahead. She had learned, frequently to her sorrow, that Penny enjoyedinterviewing unusual characters and engaging in amazing activities. Onlya few months earlier, the girls had operated their own newspaper in anabandoned downtown building with results which were still the talk ofRiverview. Another time they had attended a society wedding on an islandguarded by a drawbridge, and had ended by using the drawbridge as a meansof capturing a boatload of crooks. In fact, Louise took delight inremarking that if ever her chum chose to write an autobiography, asuitable title would be: "Life with Penelope Parker: Never a DullMoment."
"What's up now, Penny?" she inquired, as they rattled toward the HubellTower in Leaping Lena.
"Just a little argument I had with Dad last night. I main
tain that thebig clock struck thirteen last night at midnight. He thinks I'm a wee bittouched in the head."
"Which you must be," retorted Louise. "Who ever heard of such a thing?"
"What's so crazy about it?" Penny asked with a grimace. "Didn't you everhear a clock strike the wrong number?"
"Of course, but not the Hubell clock. Why, the works were purchased inEurope, and it's supposed to be one of the best in the country."
"Even a good clock can make a mistake, I guess. Anyway, we'll see whatSeth McGuire has to say about it."
Penny brought Leaping Lena to a quivering halt opposite the tall HubellTower. Glancing upward at the octagonical-shaped clock face, she saw thatthe hands indicated twenty minutes to twelve.
"Rather an awkward time to call," she remarked, swinging open the cardoor, "but Seth probably won't mind."
As the girls walked toward the tower entrance, they noticed that thegrounds surrounding the building were not as neat as when last they hadviewed them. The shrubs were untrimmed, the lawn choked with weeds, andold newspapers had matted against the hedge.
"I wonder if Mr. McGuire has been well?" Penny commented, knocking on thetower door. "He always took pride in looking after the yard."
"At least he seems to be up and around," Louise returned in a low tone."I can hear someone moving about inside."
The girls waited expectantly for the door to open. When there was noresponse to their knock, Penny tried again.
"Who's there?" called a loud and not very friendly voice.
Penny knew that it was not Old Seth who spoke, for the caretaker'shigh-pitched tones were unmistakable.
"We came to see Mr. McGuire," she called through the panel.
The door swung back and the girls found themselves facing a stout,red-faced man of perhaps forty, who wore a soiled suede jacket andunpressed corduroy trousers.
"McGuire's not here any more," he informed curtly. "You'll probably findhim at his farm."
Before the man could close the door, Penny quickly asked if Mr. McGuirehad given up his position as caretaker because of sickness.
"Oh, he was getting too old to do his work," the man answered with ashrug. "I'm Charley Phelps, the new attendant. Visiting hours are fromtwo to four each afternoon."
"We didn't come to see the clock," persisted Penny.
"What did bring you here then?" the man demanded gruffly. "You a personalfriend of Seth's?"
"Not exactly." Penny peered beyond the caretaker into an untidy livingroom clouded with tobacco smoke. "We thought we might sell him one ofthese tags. Perhaps you would like to contribute to the orphans' campfund?"
She extended the bit of yellow cardboard, bestowing upon the attendantone of her most dazzling smiles.
"No, thanks, Sister," he declined, refusing to take the tag. "You'll haveto peddle your wares somewhere else."
"Only twenty-five cents."
"I'm not interested. Now run along and give me a chance to eat my lunchin peace."
"Sorry to have bothered you," Penny apologized woodenly. Without movingfrom the door, she inquired: "Oh, by the way, what happened to the clocklast night?"
"Nothing happened to it," the caretaker retorted. "What d'you mean?"
"At midnight it struck thirteen times instead of twelve."
"You must have dreamed it!" the man declared. "Say, what are you tryingto do anyhow--start stories so I'll lose my job?"
"Why, I never thought of such a thing!" Penny gasped. "I truly believedthat the clock did strike thirteen--"
"Well, you were wrong, and I'll thank you not to go around telling folkssuch bunk!" the man said angrily. "The clock hasn't struck a wrong hoursince the day it was installed. I take better care of the mechanism thanSeth McGuire ever did!"
"I didn't mean to intimate that you were careless--" Penny began.
She did not complete the sentence, for Charley Phelps slammed the door inher face.