Chapter IV: Part 4

"Oh, he won't give it to me," replied Penny. "I'll probably get a sweater with pink and blue stripes or some dead merchandise the store couldn't pawn off on anyone except an unsuspecting father."

Mrs. Downey laughed as she picked up the tray.

"I hope your father will be able to get to Pine Top for Christmas."

"So do I," agreed Penny, frowning. "I thought when I wired him that Harvey Maxwell was here he would come right away."

"He may have decided it would do no good to contact the man. Knowing Mr. Maxwell I doubt if your father could make any sort of deal with him."

"If only he would come here he might be able to learn something which would help his case," Penny declared earnestly. "Maxwell and Fergus are mixed up in some queer business."

Mrs. Downey smiled tolerantly. While she always listened attentively to Penny's theories and observations, she had not been greatly excited by her tale of the mysterious Green Room. She knew the two men were unscrupulous in a business way and that they were making every effort to force her to give up the lodge, but she could not bring herself to believe they were involved in more serious affairs. She thought that Penny's great eagerness to prove Harvey Maxwell's dishonesty had caused her imagination to run riot.

"Francine Sellberg wouldn't be at Pine Top if something weren't in the wind," Penny went on reflectively. "She followed Ralph Fergus and Maxwell here. And that in itself was rather strange."

"How do you mean, Penny?"

"Fergus must have been having trouble in managing the hotel or he wouldn't have gone to Riverview to see Maxwell. What he had to say evidently couldn't be trusted to a letter or a telegram."

"Mr. Fergus often absents himself on trips. Now and then he goes to Canada."

"I wonder why?" asked Penny alertly.

"He and Mr. Maxwell have a hotel there, I've heard. I doubt if his trips have any particular significance."

"Well, at any rate, Fergus brought Maxwell back from Riverview to help him solve some weighty problem. From their talk on the plane, I gathered they were plotting to put you out of business, Mrs. Downey."

"I think you are right there, Penny."

"But why should your lodge annoy them? You could never take a large number of guests away from their hotel."

"Ralph Fergus is trying to buy up the entire mountainside," Mrs. Downey declared bitterly. "He purchased the site of the old mine, and I can't see what good it will ever do the hotel."

"You don't suppose there's valuable mineral--"

"No," Mrs. Downey broke in with an amused laugh. "The mine played out years ago."

"Has Mr. Fergus tried to buy your lodge?"

"He's made me two different offers. Both were hardly worth considering. If he comes through with any reasonable proposition I may sell. My future plans depend a great deal upon whether or not Peter Jasko is willing to renew a lease on the ski slopes."

"When does the lease expire, Mrs. Downey?"

"The end of next month. I've asked Mr. Jasko to come and see me as soon as he can. However, I have almost no hope he'll sign a new lease."

Mrs. Downey carried the tray to the door. There she paused to inquire: "Anything I can bring you, Penny? A book or a magazine?"

"No, thank you. But you might give me my portable typewriter. I think I'll write a letter to Dad just to remind him he still has a daughter."

Pulling a table to the bedside, Mrs. Downey placed the typewriter and paper on it before going away. Penny propped herself up with pillows and rolled a blank sheet into the machine.

At the top of the page she pecked out: "Bulletin." After the dateline, she began in her best journalistic style, using upper case letters:

"PENNY PARKER, ATTRACTIVE AND TALENTED DAUGHTER OF ANTHONY PARKER, WHILE RIDING THE TAIL OF A RACING BOB-SLED WAS THROWN FOR A TEN YARD LOSS, SUSTAINING NUMEROUS BRUISES. THE PATIENT IS BEARING HER SUFFERING WITH FORTITUDE AND ANTICIPATES BEING IN CIRCULATION BY GLMLFFLS"

Penny stared at the last word she had written. Inadvertently, her fingers had struck the wrong letters. She had intended to write "tomorrow." With an exclamation of impatience she jerked the paper from the machine.

And then she studied the sentence she had typed with new interest. There was something strangely familiar about the jumbled word, GLMLFFLS.

"It looks a little like that coded message I found!" she thought excitedly.

Forgetting her bruises, Penny rolled out of bed. She struck the floor with a moan of anguish. Hobbling over to the dresser, she found the scrap of paper which she had saved, and brought it back to the bed.

The third word in the message was similar, although not the same as the one she had written by accident. Penny typed them one above the other.

GLMLFFLS
GLULFFLS

"They're identical except for the third letter," she mused. "Why, I believe I have it! You simply strike the letter directly below the true one--that is, the one in the next row of keys. And when your true letter is in the bottom row, you strike the corresponding key on the top row. That's why I wrote an M for a U!"

Penny was certain she had deciphered the third word of the code and that it was the same as she had written unintentionally. Quickly she wrote out the entire jumbled message, and under it her translation.

YL GFZKY GLULFFLS
NO TRAIN TOMORROW

"That's it!" she chortled, bounding up and down in bed.

And then her elation fled away. A puzzled expression settled over her face.

"I have it, only I haven't," she muttered. "What can the message mean? There are no trains at Pine Top--not even a railroad station. This leaves everything in a worse puzzle than before!"

CHAPTER
17
_STRANGE SOUNDS_

Penny felt reasonably certain that she had deciphered the code correctly, but although she studied over the message for nearly an hour, she could make nothing of it.

"No train tomorrow," she repeated to herself. "How silly! Perhaps it means, no _plane_ tomorrow."

She worked out the code a second time, checking her letters carefully. There was no mistake.

Later in the evening when Mrs. Downey stopped to inquire how she was feeling, Penny asked her about the train service near Pine Top.

"The nearest railroad is thirty miles away," replied the woman. "It is a very tedious journey to Pine Top unless one comes by airplane."

"Is the plane service under the control of the Fergus-Maxwell interests?"

"Not to my knowledge," returned Mrs. Downey, surprised by the question. "This same airline company sent planes here even before the Fergus hotel was built, but not on a regular schedule."

Left alone once more, Penny slipped the typewritten message under her pillow and drew a long sigh. Somehow she was making no progress in any line. From whom had Ralph Fergus received the coded note, and what was its meaning?

"I'll never learn anything lying here in bed," she murmured gloomily. "Tomorrow I'll get up even if it kills me."

True to her resolve, she was downstairs in time for breakfast the next morning.

"Oh, Penny," protested Mrs. Downey anxiously, "don't you think you should have stayed in bed? I can tell it hurts you to walk."

"I'll limber up with exercise. I may take a little hike down to the village later on."

Mrs. Downey sadly shook her head. She thought that Penny had entirely too much determination for her own good.

Until ten o'clock Penny remained at the lodge, rather hoping that Sara Jasko would put in an appearance. When it was evident that the girl was not coming, she bundled herself into warm clothing and walked painfully down the mountain road. Observing old Peter Jasko in the yard near the cabin, she did not pause but went on until she drew near the Fergus hotel.

"I wish I dared go in there," she thought, stopping to rest for a moment. "But I most certainly would be chased out."

Penny sat down on a log bench in plain view of the hostelry. Forming a snowball, she tossed it at a squirrel. The animal scurried quickly to a low-hanging tree branch and chattered his violent disapproval.

"Brother, that's the way I feel, too," declared Penny soberly. "You express my sentiments perfectly."

She was still sunk in deep gloom when she heard a light step behind her. Turning her head stiffly she saw Maxine Miller tramping through the snow toward her.

"If it isn't Miss Parker!" the actress exclaimed with affected enthusiasm. "How delighted I am to see you again, my dear. I heard about the marvelous way you stopped the bob-sled yesterday. Such courage! You deserve a medal."

"I would rather have some new skin," said Penny.

"I imagine you do feel rather bruised and battered," the actress replied with a show of sympathy. "But how proud you must be of yourself! Everyone is talking about it! As I was telling Mr. Jasko last night--"

"You were talking with Peter Jasko?" broke in Penny.

"Yes, he came to the hotel to see Mr. Fergus--something about a lease, I think. Imagine! He hadn't heard a word about the accident, and his granddaughter was in it!"

"You told him all about it I suppose?" Penny asked with a moan.

"Yes, he was tremendously impressed. Why, what is the matter? Do you have a pain somewhere?"

"Several of them," said Penny. "Go on. What did Mr. Jasko say?"

"Not much of anything. He just listened. Shouldn't I have told him?"

"I am sorry you did, but it can't be helped now. Mr. Jasko doesn't like to have his granddaughter ski or take any part in winter sports."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Then I did let the cat out of the bag. I thought he acted rather peculiar."

"He was bound to have found out about it sooner or later," Penny sighed. With a quick change of mood she inquired: "What's doing down at the hotel? Any excitement?"

"Everything is about as usual. I've sold two fur coats. Don't you think you might be interested in one yourself?"

"I would be interested but my pocketbook wouldn't."

"These coats are a marvelous bargain," Miss Miller declared. "Why don't you at least look at them and try one on. Come down to the hotel with me now and I'll arrange for you to meet my employer."

"Well--" Penny hesitated, "could we enter the hotel by the back way?"

"I suppose so," replied the actress in surprise. "You're sensitive about being crippled?"

"That's right. I don't care to meet anyone I know."

"We can slip into the hotel the back way, then. Very few persons use the rear corridors."

Penny and Miss Miller approached the building without being observed. They entered at the back, meeting neither Ralph Fergus or Harvey Maxwell.

"Can you climb a flight of stairs?" the actress asked doubtfully.

"Oh, yes, easily. I much prefer it to the elevator."

"You really walk with only a slight limp," declared Miss Miller. "I see no reason why you should feel so sensitive."

"It's just my nature," laughed Penny. "Lend me your arm, and up we go."

They ascended to the second floor. Miss Miller motioned for the girl to sit down on a sofa not far from the elevator.

"You wait here and I'll bring my employer," she offered. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Who is this man?" inquired Penny.

The actress did not hear the question. She had turned away and was descending the stairs again to the lobby floor.

For a moment or two the girl sat with her head against the back rest of the sofa, completely relaxed. The trip down the mountainside had tired her more than she had expected. She was afraid she had made a mistake in coming boldly to the hotel. If Harvey Maxwell caught her there he would not treat her kindly.

As for seeing the fur coats, she had no intention of ever making a purchase. She had agreed to look at them because she was curious to learn the identity of Miss Miller's employer, as well as the nature of the proposition which might be made her.

Presently, Penny's attention was directed to a distant sound, low and rhythmical, carrying a staccato overtone.

At first the girl paid little heed to the sound. No doubt it was just another noise incidental to a large hotel--some machine connected with the cleaning services perhaps.

But gradually, the sound impressed itself deeper on her mind. There was something strangely familiar about it, yet she could not make a positive identification.

Penny arose from the sofa and listened intently. The sound seemed to be coming from far down the left hand hall. She proceeded slowly, pausing frequently in an effort to discover whence it came. She entered a side hall and the noise increased noticeably.

Suddenly Penny heard footsteps behind her. Turning slightly she was dismayed to see Ralph Fergus coming toward her. For an instant she was certain he meant to eject her from the hotel. Then, she realized that his head was down, and that he was paying no particular attention to her.

Penny kept her back turned and walked even more slowly. The man overtook her, passed without so much as bestowing a glance upon her. He went to a door which bore the number 27 and, taking a key from his pocket, fitted it into the lock.

Penny would have thought nothing of his act, save that as he swung back the door, the strange sound which previously had drawn her attention, increased in volume. It died away again as the door closed behind Fergus.

Waiting a moment, Penny went on down the hall and paused near the room where the hotel man had entered. She looked quickly up and down the hall. No one was in sight.

Moving closer, she pressed her ear to the panel. There was no sound inside the room, but as she waited, the rhythmical chugging began again. And suddenly she knew what caused it--a teletype machine!

Often in her father's newspaper office Penny had heard that same sound and had watched the printers recording news from all parts of the country. There was no mistaking it, for she could plainly distinguish the clicking of the type against the platen, the low hum of the machine itself, the quick clang of the little bell at the end of each line of copy.

"What would the hotel be doing with a teletype?" she mused. "They print no newspapers here."

Into Penny's mind leaped a startling thought. The coded message in upper case letters which Fergus had dropped in the snow! Might it not have been printed by a teletype machine?

"But what significance _could_ it have?" she asked herself. "From what office are the messages being sent and for what purpose?"

It seemed to Penny that the answer to her many questions might lie, not in the Green Room as she had supposed, but close at hand in Number 27.

Her ear pressed to the panel, the girl made out a low rumble of voices above the clatter of the teletype. Ralph Fergus was talking with another man but she could not distinguish a word they were saying. So intent was she that she failed to hear a step behind her.

A mop handle clattered to the floor, making a loud sound on the tiles. Penny whirled about in confusion. A cleaning maid stood beside her, regarding her with evident though unspoken suspicion.

CHAPTER
18
_QUESTIONS AND CLUES_

"Good morning," stammered Penny, backing from the door. "Were you wanting to get into this room?"

"No, I never clean in there," answered the maid, still watching the girl with suspicion. "You're looking for someone?"

Penny knew that she had been observed listening at the door. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise.

She answered frankly: "No, I was passing through the corridor when I heard a strange sound in this room. Do you hear it?"

The maid nodded and her distrustful attitude changed to one of indifference.

"It's a machine of some sort," she answered. "I hear it running every once in a while."

Penny was afraid to loiter by the door any longer lest her own voice bring Ralph Fergus to investigate. As the cleaning woman picked up her mop and started on down the hall, she fell into step with her.

"Who occupies Room 27?" she inquired casually.

"No one," said the maid. "The hotel uses it."

"What goes on in there anyway? I thought I heard teletype machines."

The maid was unfamiliar with the technical name Penny had used. "It's just a contraption that prints letters and figures," she informed. "When I first came to work at the hotel I made a mistake and went in there to do some cleaning. Mr. Fergus, he didn't like it and said I wasn't to bother to dust up there again."

"Doesn't anyone go into the room except Mr. Fergus?"

"Just him and George Jewitt."

"And who is he? One of the owners of the hotel?"

"Oh, no. George Jewitt works for Mr. Fergus. He takes care of the machines, I guess."

"You were saying that the machine prints letters and figures," prompted Penny. "Do you mean messages one can read?"

"It was writing crazy-like when I watched it. The letters didn't make sense nohow. Mr. Fergus he told me the machines were being used in some experiment the hotel was carrying on."

"Who occupies the nearby rooms?" Penny questioned. "I should think they would be disturbed by the machines."

"Rooms on this corridor are never assigned unless everything else is full up," the maid explained.

Pausing at a door, the cleaning woman fitted a master key into the lock.

"There's one thing more I'm rather curious about," said Penny quickly. "It's this Green Room I hear folks mentioning."

The maid gazed at her suspiciously again. "I don't know anything about any Green Room," she replied.

Entering the bedroom with her cleaning paraphernalia, she closed the door behind her.

"Went a bit too far that time," thought Penny, "but at least I learned a few facts of interest."

Turning, she retraced her steps to Room 27, but she was afraid to linger there lest Ralph Fergus should discover her loitering in the hall. Miss Miller had not put in an appearance when she returned to the elevators. She decided not to wait.

Scribbling a brief note of explanation, Penny left the paper in a corner of the sofa and hobbled down the stairway to the first floor. She let herself out the back way without attracting undue attention. Safely in the open once more she retreated to her bench under the ice-coated trees.

"I need to give this whole problem a good think," she told herself. "Here I have a number of perfectly good clues but they don't fit together. I'm almost as far from getting evidence against Fergus and Maxwell as I was at the start."

Penny could not understand why the hotel would have need for teletype machine service. Such machines were used in newspaper offices, for railroad communication, brokerage service, and occasionally in very large plants with widely separated branch offices. Suddenly she recalled that her father had once told her Mr. Maxwell kept in touch with his chain of hotels by means of such a wire service. Surely it was an expensive and unnecessary means of communication.

The cleaning woman's information that messages came through in unintelligible form convinced Penny a code was being used--a code to which she had the key. But why did Maxwell and Fergus find it necessary to employ one? If their messages concerned only the routine operation of the various hotels in the chain, there would be no need for secrecy.

The one message she had interpreted--"No Train Tomorrow"--undoubtedly had been received by teletype transmission. But Penny could not hazard a guess as to its true meaning. She feared it might be in double code, and that the words did not have the significance usually attributed to them.

"If only I could get into Room 27 and get my hands on additional code messages I might be able to make something out of it," she mused. "The problem is how to do it without being caught."

Penny had not lost interest in the Green Room. She was inclined to believe that its mystery was closely associated with the communication system of the hotel. But since, for the time being at least, the problem of penetrating beyond the guarded Green Door seemed unsolvable, she thought it wiser to center her sleuthing attack elsewhere.

"All I can do for the next day or so is to keep an eye on Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell," she told herself. "If I see a chance to get inside Room 27 I'll take it."

Penny arose with a sigh. She would not be likely to have such a chance unless she made it for herself. And in her present battered state, her mind somehow refused to invent clever schemes.

The walk back up the mountain road was a long and tiring one. Finally reaching the lodge after many pauses for rest, Penny stood for a time watching the skiers, and then entered the house.

Mrs. Downey was not in the kitchen. Hearing voices from the living room, Penny went to the doorway and paused there. The hotel woman was talking with a visitor, old Peter Jasko.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Penny apologized for her intrusion. She started to retreat.

Peter Jasko saw her and the muscles of his leathery face tightened. Pushing back his chair he got quickly to his feet.

"You're the one who has been trespassing on my land!" he accused, his voice unsteady from anger. "You've been helping my granddaughter disobey my orders!"

Taken by surprise, Penny could think of nothing to say in her own defense.

After his first outburst, Peter Jasko ignored the girl. Turning once more to Mrs. Downey he said in a rasping voice:

"You have my final decision, Ma'am. I shall not renew the lease."

"Please, Mr. Jasko," Mrs. Downey argued quietly. "Think what this means to me! If I lose the ski slopes I shall be compelled to give up the lodge. I've already offered you more than I can afford to pay."

"Money ain't no object," the old man retorted. "I'm against the whole proposition."

"Nothing I can say will make you reconsider?"

"Nothing, Ma'am."

Picking up his cap, a ridiculous looking affair with ear muffs, Peter Jasko brushed past Penny and went out the door.

CHAPTER
19
_PETER JASKO SERVES NOTICE_

After the old man had gone, Penny spoke apologetically to Mrs. Downey.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I ruined everything, coming in just when I did."

Mrs. Downey sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring out the window after the retreating figure of Peter Jasko.

"No, it wasn't your fault, Penny."

"He was angry at me because I've been helping Sara get in and out of the cabin. I never should have done it."

"Perhaps not," agreed Mrs. Downey, "but it would have made no difference in regard to the lease. I've been expecting Jasko's decision. Even so, it comes as a blow. This last week I had been turning ideas over in my mind, trying to think of a way I could keep on here. Now everything is settled."

Penny crossed the room and slipped an arm about the woman's shoulders.

"I'm as sorry as I can be."

With a sudden change of mood, Mrs. Downey arose and gave Penny's hand an affectionate squeeze.

"Losing the lodge won't mean the end of the world," she said lightly. "While I may not be able to sell the place for a very good price now that the ski slopes are gone, I'll at least get something from Mr. Maxwell. And I have a small income derived from my husband's insurance policy."

"Where will you go if you leave here?"

"I haven't given that part any thought," admitted Mrs. Downey. "I may do a little traveling. I have a sister in Texas I might visit."

"You'll be lonesome for Pine Top."

"Yes," admitted Mrs. Downey, "this place will always seem like home to me. And I've lived a busy, useful life for so many years it will be hard to let go."

"Possibly Peter Jasko will reconsider his decision."

Mrs. Downey smiled and shook her head. "Not Peter. I've known him for many years, although I can't say I ever became acquainted with him. Once he makes a stand nothing can sway him."

"Is he entirely right in his mind?" Penny asked dubiously.

"Oh, yes. He's peculiar, that's all. And he's getting old."

Despite Mrs. Downey's avowal that no one was responsible for Peter Jasko's decision, Penny considered herself at fault. She could not blame the old man for being provoked because she had helped his granddaughter escape from the cabin.

"If I went down there and apologized it might do some good," she thought. "At least, nothing will be lost by trying."

Penny turned the plan over in her mind, saying nothing about it to Mrs. Downey. It seemed to her that the best way would be to wait for a few hours until Peter Jasko had been given an opportunity to get over his anger.

The afternoon dragged on slowly. Toward nightfall, finding confinement intolerable, Penny ventured out-of-doors to try her skis. She was thrilled to discover that she could use them without too much discomfort.

Going to the kitchen window, she called to Mrs. Downey that she intended to do a little skiing and might be late for dinner.

"Oh, Penny, you're not able," the woman protested, raising the sash. "It's only your determination which drives you on."

"I'm feeling much better," insisted Penny. "I want to go down the mountain and see Sara."

"It will be a hard climb back," warned Mrs. Downey. "And the radio reported another bad storm coming."

"That's why I want to go now," answered Penny. "We may be snowbound by tomorrow."

"Well, if you must go, don't overtax your strength," cautioned Mrs. Downey.

Penny wrapped a woolen scarf tightly about her neck as a protection against the biting wind. Cautiously, she skied down the trail, finding its frozen surface treacherous, and scarcely familiar. In the rapidly gathering dusk nothing looked exactly the same as by daylight. Trees towered like unfriendly giants, obscuring the path.

Before Penny had covered half the distance to Jasko's cabin, snowflakes, soft and damp, began to fall. They came faster and faster, the wind whirling them directly into her face. She kept her head down and wished that she had remained by the crackling log fire at the Downey lodge.

Swinging out of the forest, Penny was hard pressed to remember the trail. As she hesitated, trying to decide which way to go, she felt her skis slipping along a downgrade where none should have been. Too late, she realized that she was heading down into a deep ravine which terminated in an ice-sheeted river below.

Throwing herself flat, Penny sought to save herself, but she kept sliding, sliding. A stubby evergreen at last stayed her fall. She clung helplessly to it for a moment, recovering her breath. Then she tried to pull herself up the steep incline. She slipped and barely caught hold of the bush to save herself from another bad fall. Sharp pains shot through her side.

"Now I've fixed myself for sure," she thought. "How will I ever get out of this hole?"

The ravine offered protection from the chill wind, but the snow was sifting down steadily. Penny could feel her clothing becoming thoroughly soaked. If she should lie still she soon would freeze.

Again Penny tried to struggle up the bank, and again she slid backwards. From sheer desperation rather than because she cherished a hope that anyone would hear, Penny shouted for help.

An answering halloo echoed to her through the trees.

Penny dared not hope that the voice was other than her own. "Help! Help!" she called once more.

Her heart leaped. The cry which came back definitely belonged to a man! And as she marveled at the miracle of a rescue, a dark figure loomed up at the rim of the ravine.

A gruff voice called to her: "Hold on! Don't try to move! I'll get a rope and be back!"

The man faded back into the darkness. Penny clung to the bush until it seemed her arms would break. Snow fell steadily, caking her hood and penetrating the woolen suit.

Then as the girl lost all awareness of time, she caught the flash of a lighted lantern. Her rescuer appeared again at the top of the ravine and lowered a rope. She grasped it, wrapping it tightly about her wrist, and climbed as best she could while the man pulled from above.

At last Penny reached the top, falling in an exhausted heap on the snow. Raising her head she stared into the face of her rescuer. The man was Peter Jasko.

He recognized her at the same instant.

"You!" he exclaimed.

For one disturbing moment Penny thought the old man meant to push her back down into the yawning ravine. In the yellow glow of the lantern, the expression of his face was terrifying.

Gaining control of himself, Peter Jasko demanded gruffly: "Hurt?"

"I've twisted my ankle." Penny pulled herself up from the ground, took a step, and recoiled with pain.

"Let me have a look at it."

Jasko bent down and examined the ankle.

"No bones broken," he said. "You're luckier than you deserve. Any fool who doesn't know enough to keep off skis ought to be crippled for life!"

"Such a cheerful philosophy," observed Penny ironically. "Well, thanks anyhow for saving me. Even if you are sorry you did it."

The old man made no immediate reply. He stood gazing down at Penny.

"Reckon I owe you something," he said grudgingly. "Sara told me how you kept the bob-sled from going off the track. Injured yourself, too, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"You had no business helping Sara go against my will," the old man said, his anger rising again. "I told you to stay away, didn't I?"

"You did. I was sorry to disobey your orders, Mr. Jasko, but I think you are unjust to your granddaughter."

"You do, eh?"

"And you're not being fair to Mrs. Downey either," Penny went on courageously. "She's struggled for years to make her lodge profitable, fought against overwhelming odds while the Fergus interests have done everything they can to put her out of business. Unless you renew her lease, she'll be forced to leave Pine Top."

"So?" inquired the old man, unmoved.

"She's fighting with her back to the wall. And now you've dealt her the final blow."

"No one asked Mrs. Downey to come here in the first place," replied Peter Jasko. "Or them other hotel people either. Pine Top can get along without the lot of 'em. The sooner they all clear out the better I'll like it."

"I'm sure of that," said Penny. "You don't care how much trouble you cause other folks. Because of your own son's death you have taken an unnatural attitude toward skiing. You hate everything remotely connected with the sport. But it isn't fair. Your granddaughter has a right to a certain amount of freedom."

Peter Jasko listened to the girl's words in silence. When she had finished he said in a strangely shaken voice:

"My son met his death going on ten years ago. It was on this trail--"

"I'm sorry," Penny said contritely. "I shouldn't have spoken the way I did. Actually, I was on my way down the mountain to tell you I deeply regret helping Sara to go against your will."

"My granddaughter is headstrong," the old man replied slowly. "I want what's best for her. That's why I've tried to protect her."

"I'm sure you've done what you thought was right," Penny returned. "Why don't you see Mrs. Downey again and--"

"No!" said the old man stubbornly. "You can't say anything which will make me change my mind. Take my arm and see if you can walk!"

Penny struggled forward, supported by Jasko's strong arm. Although each step sent a wracking pain through her leg she made no sound of protest.

"You can't make it that way," the old man declared, pausing. "I'll have to fix up a sled and pull you."

Going back for Penny's skis which had been left at the top of the ravine, he lashed them together. She lay full length on the runners, and he towed her until they came within view of the cabin. A light glowed in the window.

On level ground, Penny tried walking again, and managed to reach the cabin door.

"You go on inside," the old man directed. "I'll hitch up the bob-sled and take you home."

Penny pushed open the door only to hesitate on the threshold. The room was filled with tobacco smoke. Two men sat at the table, and directly behind them stood Sara Jasko.

The girl came swiftly to the door. She gave Penny a warm smile of welcome, not noticing that she had been hurt, and said anxiously to Mr. Jasko:

"Grandfather, you have visitors. Mr. Fergus and Mr. Maxwell are waiting to see you. I think it's about the lease."

"I've nothing to say to them," returned the old man grimly.

Nevertheless, he followed the two girls into the room, closing the door against the wind and snow.

The situation was an awkward one for Penny. Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell both stared at her with undisguised dislike and suspicion. Then, the former arose, and ignoring her entirely, stepped forward to meet the old man, his hand extended.

"Good evening, sir," he said affably. "Mr. Maxwell and I have a little business to discuss with you, if you can spare us a moment."

Peter Jasko ignored the offered hand.

"I haven't changed my mind since the last time we talked," he said. "I'm not signing any lease!"

Penny scarcely heard the words for she was staring beyond Ralph Fergus at his overcoat which hung over the vacated chair. The garment was light brown and the top button, a large one of the same color, had been torn from the cloth.

Shifting her gaze, Penny glanced at Sara. The girl nodded her head slowly up and down. She, too, had made the important observation, and was thinking the same thought. There could be little doubt of it--Ralph Fergus was the man who had weakened the brake rod of their bob-sled!

CHAPTER
20
_VISITORS_

"May we see you alone, Mr. Jasko?" requested Ralph Fergus.

"I don't reckon there's any need for being so all-fired private," the old man retorted, his hand on the doorknob. "If you want to talk with me speak your piece right out. I got to hitch up the team."

Mr. Fergus and his companion, Harvey Maxwell, glanced coldly toward Penny who had sunk down into a chair and was massaging her ankle. They were reluctant to reveal their business before her but there was no other way.

"We can't talk with you very well while you're poised for flight, Mr. Jasko," Ralph Fergus said placatingly. "My friend, Maxwell, has prepared a paper which he would like to have you look over."

"I'm not signin' anything!"

"Good for you, Grandfather!" muttered Sara under her breath.

The two men pretended not to hear. Mr. Maxwell took a folded document from his pocket and spread it out on the kitchen table.

"Will you just read this, please, Mr. Jasko? You'll find our terms are more than generous."

"I ain't interested in your terms," he snapped. "I'm aimin' to keep every acre of my land."

"We're not asking you to sell, only to lease," Mr. Fergus interposed smoothly. "Now we understand that your deal with Mrs. Downey has fallen through, so there's no reason why you shouldn't lease the ski slopes to us. We are prepared to offer you twice the amount she proposed to give you."

Mr. Jasko stubbornly shook his head.

"You're taking a very short-sighted attitude," said Ralph Fergus, beginning to lose patience. "At least read the paper."

"No."

"Think what this would mean to your granddaughter," interposed Harvey Maxwell. "Pretty clothes, school in the city perhaps--"

"Don't listen to them, Grandfather," spoke Sara quickly. "I have enough clothes. And Pine Top school suits me."

"You're wastin' your time and mine," said Peter Jasko. "I ain't leasing my land to anybody."

"We're only asking you to sign a three-year lease--" Mr. Fergus argued.

"Can't you understand plain language?" the old man cried. "You think money will buy everything, but you got another guess coming. I've seen enough skiing at Pine Top and I aim to put a stop to it!"

"It's no use," said Harvey Maxwell resignedly to his companion.

Ralph Fergus picked up the paper and thrust it into his overcoat pocket. "You're an old fool, Jasko!" he muttered.

"Don't you dare speak that way to my grandfather!" Sara cried, her eyes stormy. "You had your nerve coming here anyway, after that trick you tried!"

"Trick?"

"You deliberately weakened the brake rod of our bob-sled."

Ralph Fergus laughed in the girl's face. "You're as touched as your grandfather," he said.

"Perhaps you can explain what became of the top button of your overcoat," suggested Penny coming to Sara's support. "And don't try to tell us it's home in your sewing basket!"

Ralph Fergus' hand groped at the vacant spot on his coat.

"What does a button have to do with the bob-sled accident?" inquired Harvey Maxwell.

"It happens that we found a large brown button in the tool house at the Downey lodge," replied Penny. "Also a little additional evidence which rather suggests Mr. Fergus is the one who tampered with the bob-sled."

"Ridiculous!" protested the hotel man. "I've not even been near Mrs. Downey's lodge in weeks."

"I know that's a lie," said Peter Jasko. "I saw you goin' up that way Friday night."

"And you went there to damage the bob-sled!" Sara accused. "You didn't care how many persons might be injured in an accident!"

Ralph Fergus' face was an angry red. "What reason would I have for doing anything like that?" he demanded.

"Guests were being drawn from your hotel because bob-sledding was increasing in popularity," said Penny quietly. "Nothing would please you more than to put Mrs. Downey out of business."

"Aren't you drawing rather sweeping conclusions?" inquired Harvey Maxwell in an insolent tone. "A button isn't very certain evidence. So many persons wear buttons, you know."

"I lost this one from my coat weeks ago," added Ralph Fergus.

"It was your button we found," Sara accused.

Peter Jasko had been listening intently to the argument, taking little part in it. But now, with a quick movement which belied his age, he moved across the kitchen toward the gun rack on the wall.

"Let's be getting out of here," muttered Harvey Maxwell.

He and Ralph Fergus both bolted out of the door. Their sudden flight delighted Sara who broke into a fit of laughter.

"Why don't you shoot once or twice into the air just to give 'em a good fright?" she asked her grandfather.

The old man, shotgun in hand, had followed the two men to the door. But he did not shoot.

"Grandfather wouldn't hurt a flea really," chuckled Sara. "At least, not unless it was trying to make him sign something."

"Ralph Fergus acted guilty, all right," declared Penny, bending down to massage her injured ankle. "But it may have been a mistake for us to accuse him."

"I couldn't help it," answered Sara. "When I saw that button missing from his coat, I had to say something about it."

Peter Jasko put away his shotgun, turning once more to the door. "I'll hitch up the team," he said. "Sara, get some liniment and see what you can do for Miss Parker's ankle."

"Your ankle?" gasped Sara, staring at Penny. "Have you hurt yourself again?"

"I managed to fall into the ravine a few minutes ago. Your grandfather saved me."

Sara darted to the stove to get a pan of warm water. She stripped off Penny's woolen stockings and examined the foot as she soaked it.

"I suppose this will put me on the shelf for another day or so," Penny observed gloomily. "But I'm lucky I didn't break my neck."

"The ankle is swollen," Sara said, "I'll wrap it with a bandage and that may make it feel better."

With a practiced hand she wound strips of gauze and adhesive tape about the ankle.

"There, how does it feel now?"

"Much better," said Penny. "Thanks a lot. I--I feel rather mean to put your grandfather to so much trouble, especially after the way I've crossed him."

"Oh, don't you worry about Grandfather," laughed Sara. "He likes you, Penny."

"He _likes_ me?"

"I could tell by the way he acted tonight. He respects a person who stands up to him."

"I said some rather unnecessary things," Penny declared regretfully. "I was provoked because he wouldn't sign a lease with Mrs. Downey. After hearing what he said to Fergus and Maxwell I realize nothing will sway him."

Sara sighed as she helped her friend put on her shoe again.

"I'm afraid not. I'll do what I can to influence him, but I can tell you now he'll never listen to me. Grandfather is just the way he is, and one can't budge him an inch."

Peter Jasko soon had the team hitched to the bob-sled. He and Sara helped Penny in, wrapping blankets around her so that she would be snug and warm during the ride up the mountain.

"Come down again whenever you can," invited Sara. "Only the next time don't try it after dark if you're on skis."

Penny glanced at the old man, but his face showed no displeasure. Apparently, he no longer regarded her as an interloper.

"I'll come as soon as I can," she replied.

Peter Jasko clucked to the horses, and the sled moved away from the cabin. Sara stood in the doorway until it was out of sight.

During the slow ride up the mountain side, the old man did not speak. But as they came at last to the Downey lodge, and he lifted her from the sled, he actually smiled.

"I reckon it won't do any good to lock Sara up after this," he said. "You're both too smart for an old codger like me."

"Thank you, Mr. Jasko," answered Penny, her eyes shining. "Thank you for everything."

The door of the lodge had opened, and Mrs. Downey, a coat thrown over her shoulders, hurried out into the snow. Not wishing to be drawn into a conversation, Jasko leaped back into the sled, and with a curt, "Good evening," drove away.

With Mrs. Downey's help, Penny hobbled into the house, and there related her latest misadventure.

"I declare, you'll be in the hospital yet," sighed the woman. "I feel tempted to adopt Mr. Jasko's tactics and lock you up in your room."

"I'll stay there without being locked in," declared Penny. "I've had enough skiing to last me until Christmas at least."

In the morning she felt so stiff and battered that she could barely get out of bed. However, her ankle was somewhat better and when occasion demanded, she could hobble across the room without support.

"You ought to be all right in a day or so if only you'll stay off your foot and give it a chance to get well," declared Mrs. Downey.

"It's hard to sit still," sighed Penny. "There are so many things I ought to be doing."

From the kitchen window she could see the Fergus hotel far down in the valley. She was impatient to pay another visit there, although she realized that after the previous evening's encounter with Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell, it would be more difficult than ever to gain admittance.

"Somehow I must manage to get into Room 27 and learn what is going on there," she thought. "But how? That is the question!"

Ever an active, energetic person, Penny became increasingly restless as the day dragged on. During mid-afternoon, observing that Jake had hitched up the team to the sled, she inquired if he were driving down to Pine Top.

"Yes, I am sending him after supplies," explained Mrs. Downey. "And the newspapers--if there are any."

"I wish I could go along for the ride."

Mrs. Downey regarded Penny skeptically.

"Oh, I wouldn't get out of the sled," Penny said.

"Is that a promise?"

"I'll make it one. Nothing less than a fire or an earthquake will get me out."

Jake brought the sled to the door, and helped the girl into it. The day was cold. Snow fell steadily. Mrs. Downey tucked warm bricks at Penny's feet and wrapped her snugly in woolen blankets.

The ride down the mountainside was without event. Penny began to regret that she had made the trip, for the weather was more unpleasant than she had anticipated. She burrowed deeper and deeper into the blankets.

Jake pulled up at a hitching post in front of Pine Top's grocery store.

"It won't take me long," he said.

Penny climbed down in the bottom of the sled, rearranging her blankets so that only her eyes and forehead were exposed to the cold. She had been sitting there for some minutes when her attention was drawn to a man who was approaching from far down the street. Recognizing him as Ralph Fergus, she watched with interest.

At the drugstore he paused. As if by prearrangement, Benny Smith came out of the building. Penny was too far away to hear their exchange of words, but she saw the boy give all of his newspapers to Ralph Fergus. In return, he received a bill which she guessed might be of fairly high denomination.

"Probably five dollars," she thought. "The boy sells all his papers to Fergus because he can make more that way than by peddling them one by one. And he's paid to keep quiet about it."

Penny was not especially surprised to discover that the hotel man was buying up all the papers, for she had suspected he was behind the trick.

"There's no law against it," she told herself. "That's the trouble. Fergus and Maxwell are clever. So far they've done nothing which could possibly get them into legal trouble."

Presently Jake came out of the grocery store, carrying a large box of supplies which he stowed in the sled.

"I'll get the papers and then we'll be ready to start."

"Don't bother," said Penny. "There aren't any. I just saw Ralph Fergus buy them all from the boy."

"Fergus, eh? And he's been puttin' it out that the papers never caught the plane!"

"It was just another one of his little tricks to make Mrs. Downey's guests dissatisfied."

"Now we know what he's about we'll put a stop to it!"

"Yes," agreed Penny, "but he'll only think of something new to try."

As they started back toward the Downey lodge, she was quiet, turning over various matters in her mind. Since Mrs. Downey had decided to sell her business, it scarcely seemed to matter what Ralph Fergus did.

The sled drew near the Jasko cabin and passed it, turning a bend in the road. Suddenly Penny thought she heard her name called. Glancing back she was startled to see Sara Jasko running after the sled.

"Wait, Jake!" Penny commanded. "It's Sara! Something seems to be wrong!"

CHAPTER
21
_OLD PETER'S DISAPPEARANCE_

"Whoa!" shouted Jake, pulling on the reins.

The horses brought the heavy sled to a halt at the side of the road. Sara, breathless from running so fast, hurried up.

"I'm worried about Grandfather," she gasped out.

"He isn't sick?" Penny asked quickly,

"No, but I haven't seen him since early this morning. He went to chop wood at Hatter's place up the mountain. He expected to be back in time for lunch but he hasn't returned."

"He'll likely be along soon," said Jake.

"Oh, you don't know Grandfather," declared Sara, her forehead wrinkling with anxiety. "He always does exactly as he says he will do. He never would have stayed away this long unless something had happened. He's getting on in years and I'm afraid--"

"Jake, couldn't we go up to Hatter's place, wherever it is?" Penny urged.

"Sure. It's not far from Mrs. Downey's."

"Let me ride with you," Sara requested. "I'm sorry to cause you any trouble, but I have a feeling something is wrong."

"Jump in," invited Jake.

Sara climbed into the back of the sled, snuggling down in the blankets beside Penny.

"Grandfather may have hurt himself with the ax," she said uneasily. "Or he could have suffered a stroke. The doctor says he has a touch of heart-trouble, but he never will take care of himself."

"We'll probably find him safe and sound," Penny declared in a comforting way.

Jake stirred the horses to greater activity. In a short while the sled passed the Downey grounds and went on to the Hatter farm. Sara sprang out to unlock the wooden gate which barred entrance to a narrow, private road.

"I see Grandfather's sled!" she exclaimed.

Without waiting for Jake to drive through the gate, she ran on down the road. Hearing her cry of alarm, the man urged his horses on.

Reaching the clearing, Penny and Jake saw Sara gazing about in bewilderment. Peter Jasko's team had been tied to a tree and the sled box was half filled with wood. An ax lay in the deep snow close by. But there was no sign of the old man.

"Where is grandfather?" Sara asked in a dazed voice.

She called his name several times. Hearing no answer, she ran deeper into the woods. Jake leaped from the sled and joined in the search. Penny could not bear to sit helplessly by. Deciding that the emergency was equal to an earthquake or a fire, she eased herself down from the sled.

Steadily falling snow had obliterated all tracks save those made by the new arrivals. There was no clue to indicate whether Peter Jasko had left the scene of his own free will or had been the possible victim of violence.

Jake and Sara searched at the edge of the woods and returned to the clearing to report no success.

"Maybe your granddad went up to Hatter's place to get warm," the man suggested.

"He never would have left his horses without blanketing them," answered Sara. "But let's go there and inquire. Someone may have seen Grandfather."

They drove the bob-sled on through the woods to an unpainted farm house. Claud Hatter himself opened the door, and in response to Sara's anxious question, he told her that he had seen Peter Jasko drive into the place early that morning.

"You didn't see him go away?" Sara asked.

"No, but come to think of it, I noticed a car turn into the road. Must have been about ten o'clock this morning."

"What sort of car?"

The man could give no additional information, for he had not paid particular attention to the automobile. However, he pulled on his heavy coat and boots, offering to help organize a searching party.

Sara and Penny remained at the farm house, but as it became evident that the old man would not be found quickly, Jake returned and took the girls down the mountain to the Downey lodge.

"What could have happened to Grandfather?" Sara repeated over and over. "I can't believe he became dazed and wandered away."

"I wish we knew who came in the car," said Penny. "That might explain a lot."

"You--you think Grandfather met with violence?"

"I hope not," replied Penny earnestly. "But it seems very queer. Did your grandfather have enemies?"

"He antagonizes many folks without meaning to do so. However, I can't think of anyone at Pine Top who could be called an actual enemy."

By nightfall the searching party had grown in size. Nearly every male resident of Pine Top joined in the hunt for Peter Jasko. Even the Fergus hotel sent two employes to help comb the mountainside for the missing old man.

Sara, nearly in a state of collapse, was put to bed by Mrs. Downey, who kept telling the girl over and over that she must not worry. In speaking with Penny, the woman was far from optimistic. She expressed a doubt that Peter Jasko ever would be found alive.

"He may have wandered off and fallen into a crevasse."

"I am inclined to think he may have been spirited away by whoever came up the private road in that car," commented Penny.

"I can't imagine anyone bothering to kidnap Peter Jasko," returned Mrs. Downey. "He has no money."

"It does sound rather fantastic, I admit. Especially in broad daylight. You didn't notice any automobile on the main road this morning did you?"

"Only the Fergus hotel delivery truck. But I was busy. A dozen might have passed without my noticing them."

At nine o'clock Jake came to the lodge with a discouraging report. No trace of Peter Jasko had been found. The search would continue throughout the night.

"Which way are you going?" Penny inquired as the man started to leave the house again. "Up the mountain or down?"