Chapter II: Part 2

"I'll tell you nothing," the woman cried. "How dare you intrude in my home and go about listening at bedroom doors!"

"Mrs. Kippenberg, if only you will calm yourself, I may be able to help you."

"Help me?" the woman demanded. "What do you mean?"

"I may be able to give you a clue as to what became of Grant Atherwald."

The anger faded from Mrs. Kippenberg's face. She came close to Penny, grasping her arm with a pressure which hurt.

"You have seen him? Tell me!"

"He came over in the same boat."

"How long ago was that?"

"Shortly after one o'clock. He was stopped at the front door by a servant who handed him a note. Mr. Atherwald read it and walked down toward the garden."

"I wonder which one of the servants spoke to him? It was at the front door, you say?"

"Yes."

"Then it must have been Gregg. I'll talk with him."

Forgetting Penny, Mrs. Kippenberg hastened down the stairway. She jangled a bell and asked that the manservant be sent to her. Unnoticed, Penny lingered to hear the interview.

The man came into the room. "You sent for me, Mrs. Kippenberg?" he inquired.

"Yes, Gregg. You were at the door when Mr. Atherwald arrived?"

"I was, Madam."

"I understand you handed him a note which he read."

"Yes, Madam."

"Who gave you the note?"

"Mrs. Latch, the cook. She told me it was brought to the kitchen door early this morning by a most disreputable looking boy."

"He had been hired to deliver it for another person, I suppose?"

"Yes, Madam. The boy told Mrs. Latch that the message came from a friend of Mr. Atherwald's and should be given to him as soon as he arrived."

"You have no idea what the note contained?"

"No, Mrs. Kippenberg, the envelope was sealed."

Sensing that when the interview ended Mrs. Kippenberg's wrath might again descend upon her, Penny decided not to tempt fate. While the woman was still talking with the servant, she slipped out of the house.

"Atherwald might have had that note sent to himself, but I doubt it," she told herself. "Either he is still on the estate, or the boatman would have had to take him back across the river."

She walked quickly down to the dock and was elated to find the guest launch tied up there. The boatman answered her questions readily. He had not seen Grant Atherwald since early in the afternoon. Salt was the only person he had taken back across the river.

"Have you noticed any other boat leaving the estate?" inquired Penny.

"Boats have been going up and down the river all day," the man answered with a shrug. "I didn't notice any particular one."

Penny glanced across the water. She could see Salt perched on the drawbridge waiting for her. But she was not yet ready to leave the estate.

Ignoring his shout to "come on," she turned and walked back toward the house. Deliberately, she chose the same path which she and Salt had followed earlier in the afternoon.

A swift walk brought her to the forbidden trail with the barrier sign. Penny glanced around to be certain she was not under observation. Then she stepped boldly over the wire.

Passing the place where she and Salt had talked with the gardener, she noticed his trowel lying on the ground. There was no evidence that he had done any work.

However, all along the path flowering shrubs were well trimmed and tended.

"So this part of the estate isn't fixed up," Penny mused. "It's much nicer than the other section in my opinion. I wonder why that gardener told so many lies?"

The path led deeper into the woods. Rustic benches invited one to linger, but Penny walked rapidly onward.

Unexpectedly, she came to a little clearing, and saw before her a large, circular pool. From a gap in the trees, warm sunshine poured down upon the bed of flowers which flanked the cement sides, making a circle of brilliant color.

"So this is where the path leads," thought Penny. "No mystery here after all."

She was at a loss to understand why this portion of the estate had been closed to visitors for certainly it was the most beautiful part. Yet there was a quality to the beauty which the girl did not like.

As she stood staring at the pool, she was fully aware of an uneasy feeling which had taken possession of her. It was almost as if she stood in the presence of something sinister and unknown. The gentle rustling of the tree leaves, the cool river air blowing against her cheek, only served to heighten the feeling.

She drew closer and peered down into the blue depths of the pool. She could not see the bottom plainly for the water was choked with a tangle of feathery plants. A few yellow lilies floated on the surface.

Penny absently reached out to pluck one. But as the stem snapped off, she gave a little scream and dropped the flower. She had seen a large, shadowy form slithering through the water beneath her.

Penny backed a step away from the pool. From among the lily pads an ugly head emerged and a broad snout was raised above the surface for an instant. Powerful jaws opened and closed, revealing jagged teeth set in deep pits.

"An alligator!" Penny exclaimed aloud. "Such a horrid, ugly creature! And to think, I nearly put my hand in that water."

She shivered and watched the movements of the alligator. Its head scooted smoothly over the water for a short distance. Then with a swish of its tail, the reptile submerged and the pool was as placid as before.

"Eight feet long if it's an inch," estimated Penny. "Why would any person in his right mind keep such a creature here? Why, it's dangerous."

She felt enraged, thinking how close she had come to touching the alligator. Yet justice compelled her to admit that she had only herself to blame. Deliberately, she had disregarded the warning not to explore the forbidden trail.

"The Kippenbergs keep nice pets," she thought ironically. "If anyone fell into that pool it would be just too bad."

Now that her curiosity was satisfied, Penny had not the slightest desire to linger near the lily pool. With another glance down into the murky depths she turned away, but she had taken less than a dozen steps when she paused. Her attention was held by a bright and shiny object which lay in the dust at her feet.

With a low cry of surprise she reached down and picked up a plain band of white gold. Obviously, it was a wedding ring.

"Now where did this come from?" Penny turned it over on the palm of her hand.

Startled thoughts leaped into her mind. She felt certain Grant Atherwald had taken this same path earlier in the afternoon. It was logical to believe that the ring had been his, intended for Sylvia Kippenberg. Had he lost the band accidentally or deliberately thrown it away?

Slowly, Penny's gaze roved to the lily pond. She noted that the coping was so low that one who walked carelessly might easily stumble and fall into the water. It made her shudder to think of such a gruesome possibility, yet she could not avoid giving it consideration. For that matter, Grant Atherwald might have been lured to this isolated spot. The mysterious message--

Penny delved no deeper into the problem for suddenly she felt someone grasp her arms. With a terrified cry she whirled about to face her assailant.

CHAPTER
7
_THE FORBIDDEN POOL_

A wave of relief surged over Penny as she saw that it was the old gardener who held her fast.

"Oh, it's only you," she laughed shakily, trying to pull away. "For a second I thought the Bogey Man had me for sure."

The gardener did not smile.

"Didn't I tell you to keep away from here?" he demanded, giving her a hard shake.

"I'm not doing any h-harm," Penny stammered. She kept her hand closed over the white gold ring so that the old man would not see what she had found. "I just wanted to learn what was back in here."

"And you found out?"

The gardener's tone warned Penny to be cautious in her reply.

"Oh, the pool is rather pretty," she answered carelessly. "But I've seen much nicer ones."

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a minute or two. I really came to search for Grant Atherwald."

"Atherwald? What would he be doing here?"

"He disappeared an hour or so ago," revealed Penny. "The servants have been searching everywhere for him."

"He disappeared?" the gardener repeated incredulously.

"Yes, it's very peculiar. Mr. Atherwald arrived at the estate in ample time for the wedding. But after he read a note which was delivered to him he walked off in this direction and was seen no more."

"Down this path, you mean?"

"I couldn't say as to that, but he started this way. I know because I saw him myself."

"Atherwald didn't come here," the gardener said with finality. "I've been working around the lily pond all afternoon and would have seen him."

Penny's fingers closed tightly about the white gold ring which she kept shielded from the man's gaze. In her opinion the trinket offered almost conclusive proof that the bridegroom had visited the locality. Because she could not trust the gardener she kept her thoughts strictly to herself.

The man stared down at his feet, obviously disturbed by the information Penny had given him.

"Do you suppose harm could have befallen Mr. Atherwald?" she asked after a moment.

"Harm?" he demanded irritably. "That's sheer nonsense. The fellow probably skipped out. He ought to be tarred and feathered!"

"And you would enjoy doing it?" Penny interposed slyly.

The gardener glared at her, making no attempt to hide his dislike.

"Such treatment would be too good for anyone who hurt Miss Sylvia. Now will you get out of here? I have my orders and I mean to enforce them."

"Oh, all right," replied Penny. "I was going anyway."

This was not strictly true, for had the gardener not been there she would have made a more thorough investigation of the locality near the lily pool. But now she had no hope of learning more, and so turned away.

Emerging from among the trees, she glanced toward the rose garden. Nearly all of the wedding guests had departed. Penny considered whether or not she should speak to Mrs. Kippenberg about finding the ring. Deciding against it, she joined a group of people at the boat dock and was ferried across the river.

Salt awaited her at the drawbridge.

"I just about gave you up," he complained. "It's time for us to get back to the office or our news won't be news. The wedding is definitely off?"

"Yes, Atherwald can't be found."

"We'll stop at a drug store and telephone," Salt said, pulling her toward the car. "Learn anything more after I left?"

"Well, I found a wedding ring and was nearly chewed up by an alligator," laughed Penny. "It seemed rather interesting at the time."

The photographer gave her a queer look as he started the automobile.

"Imagination and journalism never mix," he said.

"Does this look like imagination?" Penny countered, showing him the plain band ring.

"Where did you find it?"

"Beside a lily pond in the forbidden part of the estate. I feel certain it must have been dropped by Grant Atherwald."

"Thrown away?"

"I don't know exactly what to think," Penny replied soberly.

Salt steered the car into the main road which led back to Corbin. Then he inquired: "Did you notice any signs of a struggle? Grass trampled? Footprints?"

"I didn't have a chance to do any investigating. That bossy old gardener came and drove me away."

"What were you saying about alligators?"

"Salt, I saw one swimming around in the lily pool," Penny told him earnestly. "It was an ugly brute, at least twelve feet long."

"How long?"

"Well, eight anyway."

"You're joking."

"I am not," Penny said indignantly.

"Maybe it was only a big log lying in the water."

Penny gave an injured sniff. "Have it your own way. But it wasn't a log. I guess I can tell an alligator when I see one."

"If you're actually right," Salt said unmoved, "I'd like to have snapped a picture of it. You know, this story might develop into something big."

"I have a feeling it will, Salt."

"If Atherwald really has disappeared it should create a sensation!"

"And if the poor fellow had the misfortune to fall or be pushed into the lily pool Dad wouldn't have headlines large enough to carry it!"

"Say, get a grip on yourself," Salt advised. "The _Riverview Star_ prints fact, not fancy."

"That's because so many of Dad's reporters are stodgy old fellows," laughed Penny. "But I'll admit it isn't very likely Grant Atherwald was devoured by the alligator."

The car had reached Corbin. Salt drew up in front of a drug store.

"Run in and telephone DeWitt," he said, opening the door for her. "And remember, stick to facts."

Penny was a little frightened as she entered the telephone booth and placed a long distance call to the _Riverview Star_. She never failed to feel nervous when she talked with DeWitt, the city editor, for he was not a very pleasant individual.

She jumped as the receiver was taken down and a voice barked: "City desk."

"This is Penny Parker over at Corbin," she began weakly.

"Can't hear you," snapped DeWitt. "Talk up."

Penny repeated her name and DeWitt's voice lost some of its edge. Gathering courage, she started to tell him what she had learned at the Kippenberg estate.

"Hold it," interrupted DeWitt. "I'll switch you over to a rewrite man."

The connection was made and Penny began a second time. Now and then the rewrite man broke into the narrative to ask a question.

"All right, I think I have it all," he said finally and hung up.

Penny went back to the car looking as crestfallen as she felt.

"I don't know what they thought of the story," she told Salt. "DeWitt certainly didn't waste any words of praise."

"He never does," chuckled the photographer. "You're lucky if you don't get fired."

"That's one consolation," returned Penny, settling herself for the long ride home. "He can't fire me. Being the editor's daughter has its advantages."

The regular night edition of the _Riverview Star_ was on the street by the time they reached the city. Salt signaled a newsboy and bought a paper while the car waited for a traffic light. He tossed it over to Penny.

"Here it is! My story!" she cried, and then her face fell.

"What's the matter?" asked Salt. "Did they garble it all up?"

"They've cut it down to three inches! And not a word about the alligator or the lost wedding ring! I could cry! Why, I told that rewrite man enough to fill at least a column!"

"Well, anyway you made the front page," the photographer consoled. "They may build the story up in the next edition after they get my pictures."

Penny said nothing, remaining in deep gloom during the remainder of the ride to the _Star_ office. Salt let her out at the front door. She debated for a moment whether or not to go on home, but finally entered the building.

DeWitt was busy at his desk as she walked stiffly past. She hoped that he would notice how she ignored him, but he did not glance up from the copy before him.

Penny opened the door of her father's private office and stopped short.

"Why, Dad?" she cried. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home in bed."

"I finally persuaded the doctor to let me out," Anthony Parker replied, swinging around in his swivel chair. "How did you get along with your assignment?"

"I thought I did very well," Penny said aloofly. "But from now on I'll not telephone anything in. I'll write the story myself."

"Now don't blame DeWitt or the rewrite man," said Mr. Parker, smiling. "A paper has to be careful in what it publishes, especially about a wedding. Alligators are a bit too--shall we say sensational?"

"You made a similar remark about witch dolls," Penny reminded him.

"I did eat my words that time," Mr. Parker admitted, "but this is different. If we build up a big story about Grant Atherwald's disappearance, and then tomorrow he shows up at his own home, we'll appear pretty ridiculous."

"I guess you're right," Penny said, turning away. "Well, I'm happy to see you back in the office again."

Mr. Parker watched her speculatively. When she reached the door he inquired: "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What, Dad?"

"Today is Thursday." The editor took a sealed envelope from the desk drawer. "This is the first time you have failed to collect your allowance in over a year."

"I must be slipping." Penny grinned as she pocketed the envelope.

"Why don't you open it?"

"What's the use?" Penny asked gloomily. "It's always the same. Anyway, I borrowed two dollars last week so this doesn't really belong to me."

"You might be pleasantly surprised."

Penny stared at her father with disbelief. "Dad! You don't mean you've given me a raise!"

Eagerly, she ripped open the envelope. Three crisp dollar bills fluttered into her hand. With a shriek of delight, Penny flung her arms about her father's neck.

"I always try to reward a good reporter," he chuckled. "Now take yourself off because my work is stacked a mile high."

Penny tripped gaily toward the door but it opened before she could cross the room. An office boy came in with a message for Mr. Parker.

"Man to see you named Atherwald," he announced.

The name produced an electrifying effect upon both Penny and her father.

"Atherwald!" Mr. Parker exclaimed. "Then he hasn't disappeared after all! Show him in."

"And I'm staying right here," Penny declared, easing herself into the nearest chair. "I have a hunch that this interview may concern me."

CHAPTER
8
_PARENTAL PROTEST_

In a few minutes the office boy returned, followed by a distinguished, middle-aged man who carried a cane. Penny gave him an astonished glance for she had expected to see Grant Atherwald. It had not occurred to her that there might be two persons with the same surname.

"Mr. Atherwald?" inquired her father, waving the visitor into a chair.

"James Atherwald."

The man spoke shortly and did not sit down. Instead he spread out a copy of the night edition of the _Star_ and pointed to the story which Penny had covered. She quaked inwardly, wondering what error of hers was to be exposed.

"Do you see this?" Mr. Atherwald demanded.

"What about it?" inquired the editor pleasantly.

"You are holding my family up to ridicule by printing such a story! Grant Atherwald is my son!"

"Is the story incorrect?"

"Yes, you imply that my son deliberately jilted Sylvia Kippenberg!"

"And actually he didn't?" Mr. Parker inquired evenly.

"Certainly not. My son is a man of honor and had a very deep regard for Sylvia. Under no circumstance would he have jilted her."

"Still, the wedding did not take place."

"That is true," Mr. Atherwald admitted.

"Perhaps you can explain why it was postponed?"

"I don't know what happened to Grant," Mr. Atherwald said reluctantly. "He left our home in ample time for the ceremony, and I might add, was in excellent spirits. I believe he must have been the victim of a stupid, practical joke."

"Well, that suggests a new angle," Mr. Parker remarked thoughtfully. "Did your son have friends who might be apt to play such a joke on him?"

"No one of my acquaintance," Mr. Atherwald answered unwillingly. "Of course, he had many young friends who were not in my circle."

Penny had listened quietly to the conversation. She now arose and came over to the desk. From her pocket she took the white gold wedding ring.

"Mr. Atherwald," she said, "I wonder if you could identify this."

The man studied the trinket for a moment.

"It looks very much like a ring which Grant purchased for Sylvia," he declared. "Where did you get it?"

"I found it lying on the ground at the Kippenberg estate," Penny replied vaguely. She had no intention of divulging the exact locality where she had picked up the ring.

"You see," said Mr. Parker, "we have supporting facts in our possession which were not published. All in all, I think the story was handled discreetly, with due regard for the feelings of those involved."

"Then you refuse to retract the story?"

"I should like to oblige you, Mr. Atherwald, but you realize such a story as this is of great interest to our readers."

"You care only for sensationalism!"

"On the contrary, we try to avoid it," Mr. Parker corrected. "In this particular case, we deliberately played the story down. If it develops that your son actually has disappeared--"

"I tell you it was only a practical joke," Mr. Atherwald interrupted. "No doubt my son is at home by this time. The wedding has merely been postponed."

"You are entitled to your opinion," said Mr. Parker. "And I sincerely hope that you are right."

"At least do not use that picture which your photographer took of Mrs. Kippenberg. I'll pay you for it."

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head.

"I might have expected such an attitude!" Mr. Atherwald exclaimed angrily. "Good afternoon."

He left the office, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, you've lost another subscriber, Dad," said Penny flippantly.

"He's not the first," returned her father.

"I intended to give Mr. Atherwald the wedding ring, but he went off in too big a hurry. Should I go after him?"

"No, don't bother, Penny. You might take it around to the picture room and have it photographed. We may use it as Exhibit A if the story develops into anything."

"How about the alligator?" Penny asked. "Would you like to have me bring that to the office, too?"

"Move out of here and let me work," her father retorted.

Penny went to the photographic department and made her requirements known.

"I'll wait for the ring," she announced. "You don't catch me trusting you boys with any jewelry."

While the picture was being taken Salt came by with several damp prints in his hand.

"Take a look at this one, Penny," he said proudly. "Mrs. Kippenberg wielding a wicked plate. Will she burn up when she sees it on the picture page?"

"She will, indeed," agreed Penny. "Nice going."

When the ring had been returned to her she slipped it into her pocket and left the newspaper office. Her next stop was at a corner hamburger shop where she fortified herself with two large sandwiches.

"That ought to hold me until the dinner bell rings," she thought. "And now to pay my honest debts."

A trolley ride and a short walk brought Penny to the home of her chum, Louise Sidell. As she came within sight of the front porch she saw her friend sitting on the steps, reading a movie magazine. Louise threw it aside and sprang to her feet.

"Oh, Penny, I'm glad you came over. I telephoned your house and Mrs. Weems said you had gone away somewhere."

"Official business for Dad," Penny laughed. She dropped two dollars into Louise's hand. "Here's what I owe you. But don't go spend it because I may need to borrow it back in a couple of days."

"Is Leaping Lena running up huge garage bills again?" Louise inquired sympathetically.

Penny's second-hand car was a joke to everyone save herself. She was a familiar figure at nearly every garage in Riverview, for the vehicle had a disconcerting way of breaking down.

"I had to buy new spark plugs this time," sighed Penny. "But then, I should get along better from now on. Dad raised my allowance."

"Doesn't that call for a celebration? Rini's have a special on today. A double chocolate sundae with pineapple and nuts, cherry and--"

"Oh, no, you don't! I'm saving my dollar for the essentials of life. I may need it for gasoline if I decide to drive over to Corbin again."

"Again?" Louise asked alertly.

"I was over there today, covering the Kippenberg wedding," Penny explained. "Only it turned out there was no ceremony. Grant Atherwald jilted his bride, or was spirited away by persons unknown. He was last seen near a lily pool in an isolated part of the estate. I picked up a wedding ring lying on the ground close by. And then as a climax Mrs. Kippenberg hurled a plate at Salt."

"Penny Parker, what are you saying?" Louise demanded. "It sounds like one of those two-reel thrillers they show over at the Rialto."

"Here is the evidence," Penny said, showing her the white gold ring.

"It's amazing how you get into so much adventure," Louise replied enviously as she studied the trinket. "Start at the beginning and tell me everything."

The invitation was very much to Penny's liking. Perching herself on the highest porch step she recounted her visit to the Kippenberg estate, painting an especially romantic picture of the castle dwelling, the moat, and the drawbridge.

"Oh, I'd love to visit the place," Louise declared. "You have all the luck."

"I'll take you with me if I ever get to go again," promised Penny. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

And with this careless farewell, she sprang to her feet, and hastened on home.

The next morning while Mrs. Weems was preparing breakfast, Penny ran down to the corner to buy the first edition of the _Star_. As she spread it open a small headline accosted her eye.

"NO TRACE OF MISSING BRIDEGROOM."

Penny read swiftly, learning that Grant Atherwald had not been seen since his strange disappearance from the Kippenberg estate. Members of the family refused to discuss the affair and had made no report to the police.

"This story is developing into something big after all," she thought with quickening pulse. "Now if Dad will only let me work on it!"

At home she gave the newspaper to her father, remarking rather pointedly: "You see, your expert reporters haven't learned very much more than I brought in yesterday. Why wouldn't it be a good idea to send me out there again today?"

"Oh, I doubt if you could get into the estate, Penny."

"Salt and I managed yesterday."

"You did very well, but you weren't known then. It will be a different matter today since we antagonized the family by using the story. I'll suggest that Jerry Livingston be assigned to it."

"With Penny as first assistant?"

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head. "This isn't your type of story. Now if you would like to cover a lecture at the Women's Club--"

"Or a nice peppy meeting of the Ladies Sewing Circle," Penny finished ironically. "Thank you, no."

"I am sure you wouldn't have a chance of getting into the estate," her father said lamely. "We must have good coverage."

"What does Jerry have that I haven't got?" Penny demanded in an aggrieved voice.

"Eight years of experience for one thing."

"But I really should go out there," Penny insisted. "I ought to show Miss Kippenberg the ring I found."

"The ring might provide an entry," Mr. Parker admitted thoughtfully. "I'll tell you, why don't you telephone long distance?"

"And if I'm able to make an appointment, may I help Jerry cover the story?"

"All right," agreed Mr. Parker. "If Sylvia Kippenberg talks with you we'll be able to use anything she says."

"I'm the same as on my way to the estate now, Dad."

With a triumphant laugh, Penny left the breakfast table and hastened to the telephone.

"Long distance," she said into the transmitter. "The Kippenberg estate at Corbin, please."

She hovered anxiously near the telephone while she waited for the connection to be made. Ten minutes elapsed before the bell jingled several times. Eagerly, she jerked down the receiver. She could hear a faint, far-away voice saying, "hello."

"May I speak with Sylvia Kippenberg?" Penny requested.

"Who is this, please?"

"Miss Parker at Riverview."

"Miss Kippenberg is not at home," came the stiff response.

"Then let me speak with Mrs. Kippenberg," Penny said quickly. "I have something very important to tell her. Yesterday when I was at the estate I found a ring--"

The receiver had clicked at the other end of the line. The connection was broken.

CHAPTER
9
_A SOCIETY BAZAAR_

"You see, Penny," said Mr. Parker sympathetically, "wealthy people have a way of being inaccessible to the press. They surround themselves with servants who have been trained to allow no invasion of their privacy. They erect barriers which aren't easily broken down."

"If only I could have reached Miss Kippenberg I feel sure she would have wished to learn about the ring," returned Penny. "Oh, well, let Jerry cover the story. I've lost interest."

All that morning the girl went about the house in a mood of deep depression. She felt completely out of sorts and would scowl at her own reflection whenever she passed a mirror. Nothing seemed to go right.

"I declare, I wish you would forget that silly wedding," Mrs. Weems said wearily. "Why don't you try working out your resentment on a tennis ball?"

"Not a bad idea," admitted Penny. "Only I have no partner. Louise is going away somewhere today to a charity bazaar."

"Here in Riverview?" inquired Mrs. Weems with interest.

"No, it's to be held at Andover, twenty miles from Corbin. Louise is going with an aunt of hers. She invited me several days ago, but I didn't think it would be any fun."

"You might enjoy it. Why don't you go?"

"I wonder if it isn't too late?" Penny glanced at the clock.

A telephone call to the Sidell home assured her that she would have ample time to get ready for the trip. She quickly dressed and was waiting when Louise and her aunt, Miss Lucinda Frome, drove up to the door.

"What sort of an affair is it?" Penny inquired as they traveled toward the distant town.

Miss Frome explained that the bazaar was being sponsored by members of the D.A.R. organization and would be held at one of the fashionable clubs of the city. As Miss Frome belonged to the Riverview chapter she and her guests would have an entry.

"I look forward to meeting a number of prominent persons today," the woman declared. "The Andover chapter has a very exclusive membership."

Louise winked at Penny, for it was a source of amusement to her that her aunt stood in awe of society personages. Neither she nor her chum suffered from social ambition or a feeling of inferiority.

At Andover, Miss Frome drove the car to the City Club and parked it beside a long row of other automobiles, many of which were under the charge of uniformed chauffeurs.

"Oh, dear," remarked Miss Frome nervously, "I didn't realize how shabby my old coupe looks. I do hope no one notices."

"Now don't start that, Aunty," Louise said, taking her by the arm. "Your car is perfectly all right. And so are you."

They went up the steps of the stone building and mingled with the other women. So many persons were present that the three newcomers attracted no attention. Miss Frome was reassured to see that she was as well dressed as anyone in the room.

Several long tables were covered with various articles offered for sale. Penny and Louise wandered about examining objects which struck their fancy. Miss Frome bought a vase and an imitation ivory elephant, but the girls considered the prices too high for their purses.

Presently, Penny's gaze was drawn to a young woman who stood behind one of the tables at the far end of the room. She stopped short and stared.

"See someone you know?" inquired Louise.

"Why, that young woman with the dark hair and the lace dress, Louise! She is Sylvia Kippenberg!"

"Really? I must say she has courage to come here today after all that happened!"

The young woman did not realize that she was being subjected to scrutiny. However, she seemed fully aware that she was a general object of curiosity, for her lips were frozen in a set smile and her face was pale despite the rouge on the smooth cheeks.

"I suppose she must be on the bazaar committee," Louise went on. "But my, if anyone had jilted me, I would not have come here today."

"Jerry must have missed his interview after all," Penny murmured, half to herself.

"Jerry?"

"Yes, Dad assigned him to the Kippenberg story. I suppose he drove to Corbin today in the hope of seeing Miss Sylvia."

"And she may have come here just to escape reporters."

"For two cents I'd try to interview her myself," Penny said.

"Do you think she would talk with you?"

"Not if she realizes I am a reporter. But at least I can try."

"Don't create a scene whatever you do," Louise warned uneasily. "Not that I would mind. But Aunt Lucinda would die of mortification."

"I'll try to be careful," Penny promised.

She sauntered forward, gradually working toward the table where the young woman served. Selecting an article at random from the display, she inquired its price.

"Ten dollars," Miss Kippenberg answered mechanically.

Penny loitered at the table until two elderly women had moved on. She was now alone with Sylvia Kippenberg. She would have no better opportunity to speak with her.

"Miss Kippenberg," she began.

"Yes?" The young woman really gazed at the girl for the first time. Penny saw that her eyelids were red and swollen from recent tears.

"I should like to talk with you alone, please."

"Do I know your name?" Miss Kippenberg asked coldly.

"Penny Parker."

"Parker--Parker," the young woman repeated and her eyes hardened. "Oh, yes, you are the girl who came to our place yesterday with that photographer! And you telephoned again this morning."

"Yes," Penny admitted reluctantly, "but--"

The young woman did not allow her to finish.

"I'll not talk with you or any other reporter. You have no right to come here and annoy me."

"Please, I'm not really a reporter, Miss Kippenberg. I have something to show you."

Miss Kippenberg had closed her ears to Penny's words. She turned abruptly and fled in the direction of the powder room.

Penny hesitated, remembering her promise to create no scene. Still, she could not allow Miss Kippenberg to elude her so easily. Determinedly, she followed.

"Please, Miss Kippenberg, you must listen to me," she pleaded.

Observing that her words had not the slightest effect upon the girl, she suddenly opened her purse and took out the white gold ring. She thrust it in front of Miss Kippenberg.

"I only wish to show you this."

The young woman stopped short, gazing down at the ring.

"Where did you get it?" she asked in a low tone.

"Then you do recognize it?"

"Of course. Grant showed it to me the night before we were to have been married. Tell me, how did it come into your hands?"

"We can't talk here."

Miss Kippenberg glanced quickly about and observing that many eyes were focused upon them, led the girl into the deserted powder room. They sat down on a sofa in a secluded corner.

"I didn't mean to be so rude before," Miss Kippenberg apologized. "It was only because I must protect myself from reporters and photographers. You have no idea how I have been annoyed."

"I do understand," said Penny, "and I wish to help you. That was why I was so insistent upon talking with you. I think this ring may be a clue to Mr. Atherwald's disappearance."

"Then you believe as I do that he did not go away purposely?"

"My theory is that Mr. Atherwald was a victim of a plot. Did he have any known enemies?"

"Oh, no, everyone liked Grant. Tell me about the ring. Who gave it to you?"

"No one. I found it while I was exploring a path on the estate, the trail which is blocked off."

"You shouldn't have gone there, but no matter. Just where did you pick up the ring?"

"I found it near the lily pool."

Miss Kippenberg stared at Penny with expressionless, half-glazed eyes.

"Oh!" she murmured. Her head dropped low, her body sagged and she slumped down on the sofa in a faint.

CHAPTER
10
_A THROWN STONE_

Penny's first thought was to call for assistance, but sober reflection made her realize that to do so would likely result in awkward questions. She felt certain Miss Kippenberg had only fainted and would soon revive.

Stretching the young woman full length upon the sofa, the girl ran to the washroom for a glass of water. She dampened a towel and folded it across Miss Kippenberg's forehead, at the same time rubbing the limp hands and trying to restore circulation. Noticing the white gold ring which had fallen to the floor, she reached down and picked it up.

"Miss Kippenberg must have fainted because of what I told her about the lily pond," thought Penny. "I should have used more tact."

She watched the young woman anxiously, fearing that what she had assumed to be an ordinary faint might really be a heart attack. A wave of relief surged over her as Miss Kippenberg stirred slightly. Her long dark eyelashes fluttered open and she stared blankly about her.

"Where am I?" she asked, moistening her dry lips.

"Here, drink this," Penny urged, offering the glass of water. "You'll feel much better in a few minutes."

"Now I remember," Miss Kippenberg murmured. "You were saying--"

"Don't think about that now. Just lie still and relax."

Miss Kippenberg did not try to speak again for some little time. Then, despite Penny's protests, she raised herself to a sitting position.

"I feel quite all right now," she insisted. "How stupid of me to faint."

"I am afraid I was very tactless."

"On the contrary, our conversation had nothing to do with it."

"I thought--"

"It was the heat," Miss Kippenberg insisted. "I had a sunstroke once and since then I can't bear even an overheated room."

"But it really isn't very warm in here," protested Penny. "I don't notice it at all."

"You might not but I am very sensitive to it."

"Well, I'm glad your faint wasn't caused by anything I said," Penny declared, although she continued to regard the young woman dubiously. "I thought you seemed shocked by what I told you about the ring."

"You were saying that you picked it up near the lily pond?" Miss Kippenberg questioned in a low tone.

"Yes," replied Penny, watching her closely.

"I wish I knew the exact place."

"If we could go to your estate together I could show you," Penny said eagerly.

Miss Kippenberg hesitated in her reply, obviously still prejudiced against the girl because of her connection with the _Riverview Star_.

"Very well," she agreed. "Will you please ask that my car be sent to the door?"

"Gladly," said Penny, trying not to show her jubilance.

Leaving Miss Kippenberg in the powder room she returned to the main hall. Louise separated from the crowd and hurried to meet her.

"Oh, Penny, I saw you go off with Miss Kippenberg," she began. "Would she talk with you?"

"She did," answered Penny, "and now I'm going with her to the estate."

"But Aunt Lucinda expects to start home in a few minutes," protested Louise. "How long will you be gone?"

"I haven't the slightest idea. If I'm not back here by the time you are ready to leave don't wait for me."

"But how will you get home?"

"Oh, I'll find a way. The important thing now is to learn everything I can from Miss Kippenberg. She's in a mood to talk."

"I'd love to visit the estate," Louise said wistfully.

"I wish I could take you," Penny told her sincerely, "but I don't see how I can this time."

"Of course not, Penny. It would be very foolish of you to try. You might lose your own chance to gain an exclusive news story."

"Will you explain to your aunt about my sudden disappearance?"

"Yes, she'll understand," Louise replied. "We'll wait here for you at least an hour."

Penny left a call for Miss Kippenberg's car and then went back to the powder room. The young woman walked a bit unsteadily even with aid. However, no one paid attention to them as they crossed the main hall and made their way to the waiting automobile.

With Penny and Miss Kippenberg as passengers the big limousine rolled away from the clubhouse and sped toward Corbin. During the ride the young woman scarcely spoke. She sat with her head against the cushion, eyes half closed. As they came within view of the drawbridge she made an effort to arouse herself.

"I see you have visitors at the estate," Penny commented, noticing a number of cars parked near the river's edge.

"Reporters, always reporters," returned Miss Kippenberg impatiently. "They may try to board as we pass."

Penny wondered how the limousine would be taken across the river. The old watchman had noted their approach. Before the car reached the end of the road he had lowered the creaking drawbridge into position.

"Is the bridge really safe?" Penny inquired of her companion.

"For light traffic only," Miss Kippenberg answered briefly.

The arrival of the car had created a stir of interest among the group of men gathered near the bridge. Penny caught sight of Jerry Livingston and could not resist rolling down the side window so he would be sure to obtain a clear view of her. It gave her a very pleasant feeling to see him stare as if he could not believe his own eyes.

Several of the reporters attempted to stop the limousine but without success. The car clattered over the drawbridge which was pulled up again before anyone could follow.

Penny and Miss Kippenberg alighted at the front door of the great house.

"Now show me where you found the ring," requested the young woman.

Penny led her down the winding path into the grove.

"I hope we don't meet your head gardener," she said significantly. "He seems to be such an unpleasant individual."

Miss Kippenberg glanced at her queerly.

"Why, how do you mean?"

"Oh, yesterday he ordered me away from here in no uncertain terms."

"He only meant to do his duty."

"Then the man has been ordered to keep persons away from this part of the estate?"

"I really couldn't tell you," Miss Kippenberg answered aloofly. "Mother has charge of the servants."

"Has the man been in your employ long?"

"I can't tell you that either." Miss Kippenberg's voice warned Penny that she did not care to be questioned.

There was no sign of the old gardener as they came presently to the lily pool. Penny searched about in the grass for a few minutes.

"Here is where I found the ring," she revealed. "And see this!"

"What?" Miss Kippenberg drew in her breath sharply.

"Footprints."

"That doesn't seem so remarkable." The young woman bent to examine them. "They probably were made by Grant's own shoe."

"But it looks as if there might have been a struggle here," Penny insisted. "From those marks wouldn't you say a body had been dragged across the ground toward the pool?"

"No!" cried Miss Kippenberg. "The grass is trampled, but I can't believe Grant has met with violence. I refuse to think of such a thing! The pool--" she broke off and a shudder wracked her body.

"It is best to know the truth. Have you notified the police about Mr. Atherwald's disappearance?"

Miss Kippenberg shook her head. "Until today I thought he would return. Or at least I hoped so."

"It seems to me an expert should be called into the case," Penny urged. "Why don't you telephone the police station now?"

"I couldn't," returned Sylvia looking very miserable. "Not without consulting Mother."

"Then let's talk with her now."

"She isn't at home this afternoon."

"But something should be done, and at once," Penny protested. "The first rain will destroy all these footprints and perhaps other important evidence. Do you really love Grant Atherwald?"

"With all my heart," answered the young woman soberly.

"Then I should think you would have some interest in what became of him. I can't understand your attitude at all."

"I--I have others to think of besides myself."

"Your mother, you mean?"

"Yes." Sylvia avoided Penny's penetrating gaze.

"Surely your mother wouldn't wish an act of violence to go unpunished. So much time has been lost already."

"We aren't certain anything has happened to Grant," Sylvia responded, her eyes downcast. "If we should bring the police into the case, and then it turns out that he has merely gone away to some other city, I'd be held up to ridicule once more."

"It seems to me you are taking a most foolish attitude."

"There is another reason why we must be very careful," Sylvia said unwillingly.

"And what is that?"

For just an instant Penny dared hope that the young woman meant to answer the question. But Sylvia seemed to reconsider for she said quickly:

"I can't tell you. Please don't ask me any more questions."

"Are you afraid you may be blamed for Mr. Atherwald's disappearance?" Penny persisted.

"No, no, I assure you I am not thinking of myself. Please, let's return to the house."

Penny deliberately blocked the path.

"Unless you wish me to notify the police there is a little matter which I must ask you to explain."

Reaching down she picked up a small stone and hurled it into the lily pond. As the ripples died away they both observed a convulsive movement of the water, a churning which had no relation to the missile thrown.

"I think," said Penny evenly, "that you understand my meaning."

CHAPTER
11
_QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS_

Miss Kippenberg watched the concentric circles race each other to the far edge of the lily pool.

"Then you know the reason why this part of the estate is kept closed off?" she murmured, very low.

"I learned about the alligator yesterday," said Penny. "Why is such an ugly brute kept here?"

"It was none of my doing, I assure you. I hate the horrid thing. Surely you don't mean to suggest--"

"I am not suggesting anything yet," said Penny quietly. "But you must realize that it is rather unusual to keep an alligator on one's estate."

"My father brought it here from Florida," Miss Kippenberg revealed reluctantly. "For some reason the creature seemed to fascinate him. He insisted upon keeping it in the pond."

"Your father is not living here now I am told."

"That is true." Miss Kippenberg quickly switched the subject back to the alligator. "Mother and I would like to get rid of the beast but we've never been able to do it."

"Any zoo should be willing to take it off your hands."

"Mother often spoke of getting in touch with one but for some reason she never did. I suppose she hesitated to give the alligator away upon Father's account."

Penny remained silent, wondering how deeply she dared probe into the private life of the Kippenberg family. After all there were certain inquiries which a person of sensibility could not make. She couldn't very well ask: "Have your parents separated? Why did your father leave home? Is it true he is wanted by the authorities for evading income tax?" although these questions were upon the tip of her tongue.

She did say carelessly, "Your father is away, isn't he?"

"Yes," Miss Kippenberg answered briefly. After a moment she went on: "Father was rather peculiar in many ways. He had a decided flare for the unusual. Take this estate for instance. He had it built at great expense to resemble a castle he once saw in Germany."

"I've never visited such an elegant place."

"It is entirely too flamboyant for my taste. But Father loved every tower and turret. If only things had turned out different--"

Her voice trailed away and she stared at the ground, lost in deep thought. Arousing herself, she went on once more.

"If you had known Father you would understand it was not strange for him to have an alligator on the estate. At one time he kept imported peacocks. The place was fairly overrun with them."

Penny offered no comment. She moved closer to the edge of the lily pool, gazing down into the now tranquil waters.

"I know what you are trying to imply," Miss Kippenberg said jerkily. "It couldn't be possible. I refuse even to consider such a ridiculous theory."

"It does seem rather far-fetched," Penny admitted. "Of course, tragedies do occur and those foot-prints--"

"Please, not another word or you'll drive me into hysterics!" Sylvia cried. "You are trying to play upon my feelings so that I will tell you things! You are only trying to get a story! I'll not talk with you any longer."

She turned and ran up the path toward the house.

"Overplayed my hand that time," thought Penny ruefully. "As Dad says, I really have too much imagination to make a good reporter. Also too lively a tongue."

Miss Kippenberg had vanished into the house by the time the girl retraced her way to the garden. The black limousine no longer stood at the front door so she knew she was expected to get back to Andover by her own efforts.

"If Jerry is still waiting at the drawbridge, I'll ride home with him," she told herself. "Otherwise, I'm out of luck completely."

The path which Penny followed brought her toward the rear of the house. As she drew near, the kitchen door suddenly opened and a stout woman in a blue uniform came outside. In her arms she carried two large paper sacks which appeared to be filled with garbage for the bottoms were moist.

Just as the woman reached Penny one of the bags gave away, allowing a collection of corn husks, watermelon rinds and egg shells to fall on the sidewalk.

"Now I've done it!" she exclaimed crossly. "Splattered my stockings too."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Penny, pausing.

"This is the only place I ever worked where the cook was expected to carry out the garbage!" the woman complained. "It makes me good and mad every time I do it."

"I should think a house of this size would have an incinerator so that the garbage could be burned," Penny remarked.

"Say, this place doesn't have any conveniences for the servants," the cook went on. "You're expected to work, work, work from morning to night."

She broke off quickly, regarding Penny with a suspicious gaze. "You're not one of Miss Sylvia's guests?" she demanded.

"Oh, no, I only came here on an errand. I wouldn't repeat anything to the family."

"That's all right then," the woman said in relief. "I liked my job here well enough until lately. All month it's been one dinner party after another. Then we spent days getting ready for the wedding feast and not one scrap of food was touched!"

"But I suppose Mrs. Kippenberg pays you well."

"Listen, she didn't give me one extra cent for all the work I did. Mrs. Kippenberg always has been real close, and she's a heap worse since her husband went away. Another week like this last one and I quit!"

"Well, I can't say I blame you," Penny said, leading the woman on. "I suppose Miss Sylvia is as overbearing as her mother?"

"Oh, Miss Sylvia is all right, as sweet a girl as you'll find anywhere. I felt mighty sorry for her when that no-account man threw her over."

Penny knew by this time that she must be talking with Mrs. Latch, for the footman had mentioned the cook's name. As the woman walked on with her bundles of garbage she fell into step with her.

"It was strange about Mr. Atherwald's disappearance," she remarked. "I hear he came to the house and then went away just before the wedding."

"I can tell you about that," replied Mrs. Latch with an important air. "Yesterday morning a boy came to the back door with a letter for Mr. Atherwald. It's my opinion he sent it to himself."

"Didn't the boy tell you where he had obtained the letter?"

"He said it was given to him by one of Mr. Atherwald's friends. A man in a boat."

"Oh, I see," said Penny, making a mental note of the information. Realizing that the cook had told everything she knew about the matter, she quickly switched the subject. "By the way, who is the head gardener here?"

"Do you mean Peter Henderson?"

"A fairly old man," described Penny. "Gray hair, stooped shoulders, and I might add, an unpleasant manner."

"I guess that's Peter. He's not much of a gardener in my opinion. And he feels too high and mighty to associate with the other servants. He doesn't even stay here nights."

"Is he a new man?"

"Mrs. Kippenberg hired him only three days before the wedding. I don't think he's done a lick of honest work since he came here."

"And Mrs. Kippenberg doesn't mind?"