Chapter 13: Philip Traps a Thief

Peter Wyland knew that Penny would be coming down the back way when she was ready, instead of down the stairs from the balcony. When he was in his costume he waited at the foot of the back stairs. The large room at the bottom of the steps was dimly lit.

Presently Penny, a sweet vision, appeared at the top of the steps. She gathered her draperies for the descent, unconscious of anyone’s presence. The veil, which Marjorie had persuaded her to wear, floated behind her, caught back from her face by pins and a white rose.

When she was halfway down, Peter stepped into the light. “Penny,” he said in a low voice, “you look lovely. I should have been waiting here with a minister!”

Peter was beside the surprised Penny in a moment, leading her down the few remaining steps to the room where he tenderly put his arms around her and kissed her. “I can’t wait any longer, Penny, to tell you how I love you!” Peter’s voice was a little nervous. What he had intended to say deserted him. “Will you--will you wear a dress like this for me, soon?”

Penny, who had not had a chance to utter a word, and whose breath was taken away by the surprise of having Peter kiss her, merely said, “Oh,--why, Peter,” as he led her to a little sofa in the corner of the room.

“Sit here with me just a minute, Penny. I’ve been waiting to ask you for so long, only I’ve never known whether you were just being kind and sweet to me because you’re that way with everyone, or whether you could like me well enough to marry me. I saw that there was Charles Curtis--but if you were engaged to him, I figured Phil would tip me off. I am sort of a coward where you are concerned, Penny. Don’t tell me that you like Charley best! Do you love me a little?”

Peter’s voice was low and eager. He held one of Penny’s hands tightly in his.

Penny was not the sort to keep the man she loved in a state of uncertainty. “Did you know you’ve loved me all summer, Peter? I wish you’d told me sooner, because you see, I’ve been in love with you, too.” It was all right at last. “I knew last year that I loved you Peter, but I couldn’t very well let you know it!” Penny’s hand was almost crushed as Peter’s face lit up with joy. He swept her into his arms again for another kiss, and Penny said, “I could stay here and forget all about my duties to my guests, but we mustn’t forget about Mr. X. And I’ll have to go upstairs again, Peter. See how you have mussed this veil.”

“Not beyond repair, I hope,” he said, smiling. “Penny, before you go, say you’ll marry me this fall, as soon as the guests leave?”

“Silly man! You take my breath away,” Penny laughed. “But it is wonderful that you are silly about me, Peter. I can’t think straight right this minute, but we’ll talk about it later. Marjorie and Jimmy are going to school in September. Phil is going to New York to work for Mr. Prentice and to go to school nights. He wants to be near Adra. Mercy--I’m all mixed up. There will be so much to see to. Could you--could we have our honeymoon right here?”

“I can’t think of a more wonderful spot,” Peter said. “Our life is going to be all honeymoon from now on. As long as I know we love each other that’s enough to make me walk on air the rest of the evening. What a pity we can’t be by ourselves. I’ll be thinking of you every single minute, darling.”

Peter waited until Penny went back to her room to repair damages. It took her but a few minutes and when she made her appearance in the living room, she was immediately surrounded and admired by everyone.

With the keen eye of an experienced hostess, she glanced around to see that everyone was being entertained in some fashion. She recognized most of the guests regardless of their masks, and she noted that there was quite an assembly of townspeople whom she could not recognize because of their disguises. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were dressed as George and Martha Washington and they looked very distinguished. They were talking to Marjorie just now and saying something that made her laugh. There was Charles Curtis dancing with a lovely girl who had spent several weekends at the Lodge and had come back for the masquerade. When he danced by Penny he stopped for a minute and said, “I’ll wager that this is our fair hostess. Shall I telephone the parson? It’s hard to resist such a bride!”

“You are incorrigible, Charles,” Penny reported.

“And you look radiant tonight, Penny.” And off he danced with his partner. It was hard for Penny to get her mind on anything else except Peter. Dear, eager, wonderful Peter. But she had many things to do. The tables in the dining room had to be checked, and then she had to return and take part in the party. She looked around at the guests once more trying to place some of those who did not look familiar. There was one masquerader in particular who caught her eye. He was dressed as the bearded ghost that was supposed to wander about the Lodge, but aside from the long beard and white wig he seemed to be quite young, vigorous and active. He was too heavy for Alf who had once said something about dressing up as a graybeard. He was with Adra a good deal of the time but mingled with the rest and danced well.

All the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. It was nearly time for Philip to announce that he was going to show everybody the secret room. Peter came into the room just a few minutes before this and slipping an arm around Penny, he said, “Congratulate me, Phil, I’m going to be your brother-in-law.”

Philip stared a moment, then put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and told him there was no one to whom he’d rather hand over Penny. “Good work, Peter,” he said. “Congratulations. Even if she is my sister, I must say you’re getting a wonderful girl.”

“Nobody knows that better than I,” Peter said humbly.

“Stop it, you two,” Penny cried. “I’ll get a head too big for my shoulders if you keep it up. By the way, do either of you recognize that man over there disguised as Graybeard?”

“I think that’s Mr. Sanders. He said something about wearing such a costume when Alf gave up the idea,” said Peter.

“No, it isn’t Mr. Sanders,” Penny said. “But there’s something very familiar about him. I’m sure I know him but I can’t quite put my finger on who he is.”

“Has he done anything suspicious?” Phil asked.

“Not a thing,” Penny admitted. Then she laughed. “But he has been paying quite a lot of attention to Adra. You’d better watch out, Phil.”

Phil frowned. “I’ll be glad when this evening is over. I’ve hardly had a chance to speak to Adra since breakfast. And--and, well I guess you two know how I feel about her.”

“We do,” Penny told him, smiling. “But the question is, does she?” She gave him a fond pat on the cheek. “Faint heart never won fair lady, Phil.”

“That’s right,” Peter said, grinning. “Once you get used to the idea, Phil, proposing to the girl you love isn’t so difficult.”

“I suppose not,” Phil said dubiously, “but if I rush matters I might ruin my chances with Adra.”

Marjorie joined them then. “Nobody’s done anything suspicious at all,” she complained. “The whole scheme is a flop.”

“The evening isn’t over yet,” Penny reminded her. She tucked her hand in the crook of Peter’s arm, blushing. “We’re going to announce our engagement at the banquet. And if Phil takes my advice, he’ll propose to Adra before the party is over.” She smiled at Marjorie. “Isn’t that enough excitement for you?”

“Oh, oh,” Marjorie cried, hugging Penny. “I’m so glad. Wait until I tell Judy.” She was off, completely forgetting to congratulate the bridegroom-to-be.

A short while after that Penny went upstairs with Adra and told her that she and Peter were engaged.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Adra said, rather wistfully.

Penny said nothing, but she guessed that when Phil did propose, the answer would be yes. She hurried downstairs again for, from the balcony, she could see that the guests were already crowding into the alcove.

Most of the younger men, as Marjorie had predicted, were dressed as cowboys, complete with bandannas, chaps and guns in their holsters. Penny had not been able to pick out Brook and Alf, but she knew that Jimmy was the tallest cowboy of them all.

He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. “Everybody’s all set,” he told her. “Pat’s pressing the button that moves the bookshelves now.” When Adra came down from the balcony he added, “Let’s wait out here. It’ll only add to the confusion if we, who have already seen the secret room, join the crowd in the alcove.”

“All right,” Adra said, sitting on the bottom step. “I’m exhausted. Mr. Graybeard is a wonderful dancer, but he never wants to stop for a rest.”

“Who is that guy anyway?” Jimmy asked. “He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”

“Neither can I,” Penny said. “But then I can’t place a lot of the people here.” She pointed to two cowboys who were standing just outside the alcove. “For instance, are those two guests Alf and Brook? I wouldn’t know.”

And then Penny saw something that made her turn and race up the stairs. The guns that those two cowboys were slipping from their holsters were not toy pistols. Even at that distance she could see that they were small, but deadly-looking automatics.

In the meantime, Philip, in the alcove, was making his little speech to the assembled guests.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said and waited a moment for attention.

“There is one little feature of Allen Lodge that has not been on exhibit, a place we call the secret room.” Philip paused again, for effect this time, and a murmur of interest ran around the room.

“When we first moved into this Lodge we found it accidentally and we decided to surprise you with it tonight. This room has a curious entrance and when I open the door you will see the little wall safe that has held your money and jewelry. We are sorry to say there is no other treasure down there. Believe me, when we heard of the rumors about buried treasure, we turned the place upside down to see if we could find it, without success.”

Philip deliberately assumed a very disappointed look on his face and the guests all laughed. Then he went on, “But maybe the Allens didn’t look in the right places, and possibly Mr. Graybeard, the ghost I see here tonight, may find some treasure for us. Masks and costumes are appropriate to our mysterious visit to a mysterious room. Look for treasure! We will have to go down in groups since it is a small room. The people immediately surrounding me can come down first and perhaps Mr. Graybeard will lend atmosphere by posing near the safe.”

“I’d be delighted,” Mr. Graybeard said.

Philip glanced at him, thinking: “His voice is familiar, but I’m sure he isn’t any of the merchants in the village we deal with.” Aloud he continued his speech:

“When we come back up from the secret room we’ll unmask and go into the big dining room for the banquet. I hope you have all been keeping a list of the people whom you think you have recognized. As you know, we’re going to gather up your lists as you enter the dining room. During the banquet, prizes will be awarded to the guests who have guessed the largest number of people correctly.”

After the applause that followed Philip’s speech, Pat pressed the button that moved the bookshelves aside. From then on Philip was kept busy leading one little party after another down into the secret room.

Mr. Graybeard went with the first group and added to the ghostly atmosphere by posing near the safe. Behind him the paper skeleton dangled precariously from the ceiling.

When the last guest had inspected the little room and had gone back up the stairs to the alcove, Philip said to Graybeard, “Thanks for helping us out. You make a swell ghost. Who are you anyway?”

“Never mind,” said a cold, crisp voice. “Turn around and come down the steps with your hands up.”

With one swift gesture, Philip released the spring that closed the secret door. Then he turned to face the gun Graybeard was pointing at him.

Philip was caught in his own trap, but at least the man and his pistol could neither harm nor frighten the people on the other side of the door.

Philip came slowly down the steps. “So you’re our mysterious Mr. X,” he said coolly.

“Call me anything you like,” Graybeard said, taking Philip’s own pistol from his pocket. “Now open that safe.”

Philip shrugged. “Anything to oblige.” he said.

“And don’t try to pull any tricks,” Graybeard warned him. “Upstairs, two men I hired for the occasion are at this very moment relieving your guests of their excess jewelry and cash.”

So it was a planned robbery! And Graybeard’s henchmen had probably come disguised as cowboys, carrying real pistols in their holsters!

For a moment, Phil was paralyzed with worry about the girls. Penny and Marjorie were so impulsive! Would they submit quietly to a holdup? And Adra?

He felt sure that the older women, although they would be frightened at the sight of guns, would do nothing which might arouse the anger of armed criminals. But the girls!

The voice behind the mask repeated menacingly, “_Open that safe!_”

Philip quickly obeyed. There was nothing else to do. Peter had been right all along: They should have called on the police for help.

Philip twirled the dial and opened the door of the safe. “Help yourself,” he said curtly.

“I am very much engaged in watching you,” replied the man. Philip had no choice. He emptied the safe and handed its contents to the masked burglar.

There was a good sum of money, the payments of the guests for the week. It was mostly in checks and a great deal of the jewelry had been removed from the safe for the occasion. Philip was thanking his lucky stars that they didn’t keep too much cash, valuable articles or important papers. Philip tried to get a good look at the man’s face under his beard, but it and the mask over his nose and eyes completely hid his features.

Could this really be the mysterious Mr. X? No, Philip decided. Graybeard was nothing but a common ordinary burglar. And yet there was something familiar about him.

The man tucked the money into his pocket, then looked contemptuously at the bit of jewelry but put it into another pocket. Philip listened to hurrying footsteps overhead and could see that Graybeard was perturbed by them. But there was no catching this man off guard. He held the gun close to Philip every minute. He again ordered Philip to put his hands into the air, while he felt around the inside of the safe. Philip could not help but think what a curious picture this man with his long gray beard made, as he searched through the empty safe with one hand and kept his pistol pointed at Philip with the other. What on earth was he searching for?

Then Philip heard a little click, and suddenly a drawer on two little steel rods dropped down from inside the top of the safe.

“Missed that part of it, didn’t you?” Graybeard sneered. “Empty that drawer and hand me the stuff.”

Philip was so surprised he stood there with his mouth open for a full minute, then with great interest he looked at this drawer that he had never seen before. It was wide and shallow and full of papers. Evidently a little hidden spring had released the rods that held the drawer in place. Could this be the place where the rumored treasure was supposed to be hidden? Philip mentally kicked himself for not having thought of such a possibility before. Much good it would do them now. Idiot that he had been not to have taken ordinary precautions that night. What fools they had all been not to follow Peter’s advice!

No wonder Mr. X Graybeard had planted red herrings guaranteed to keep Jimmy and Marjorie searching everywhere for hidden treasure except in their own safe.

“Quit stalling,” Graybeard growled, poking Philip with his gun. “Come on, hand over that stuff and make it snappy. The boys upstairs must be about ready to go.”

Philip took from the drawer two packages of old papers that looked like receipted bills, and a large, bulging Manila envelope. This Graybeard snatched from Phil’s hand and pocketed it with a satisfied air. He glanced at the old papers and said, “You can throw those away. What I want is bound to be in this envelope.” He went on in a patronizing voice, “Thanks, sonny boy. If you hadn’t played right into my hands, I might have had to use some ‘soup’ to blow the lock off that safe. Messy stuff, ‘soup,’ and noisy. When I heard you were going to throw this ball and show your guests the secret room, I decided to let one of you dopey Allens open it for me.” He patted the pocket into which he had stuffed the old Manila envelope. “What I have here is much more valuable than all the money and jewels the men I hired have taken from your guests. They can keep whatever they collected as their pay.”

“Just what is in that old envelope?” Phil asked, stalling for time. The man, in the boasting, triumphant mood he was now in, might be caught momentarily off guard.

Graybeard chuckled evilly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I certainly would,” Philip said and added shrewdly, “I should think you’d like to _know_ too. After all, it may be stuffed with nothing but more old receipted bills.”

The man, struck by this thought, glared at Philip through his mask. “Never thought of that,” he muttered and hastily shifted the gun from his right hand to his left so he could reach into his pocket and open the envelope.

In that split second, Philip went into action. Before Graybeard knew what was happening the pistol had been knocked from his hand. At the same moment, Philip’s fist crashed against his jaw. Graybeard went limp and toppled to the floor.

Phil leaped over his unconscious body to retrieve the gun. Then he took his own pistol from Graybeard’s pocket.

“Now the tables are nicely turned,” Phil chuckled. He quickly tore strips from the black draperies on the wall and tied the man’s hands and feet together. He worked fast because he was worried about what was going on upstairs.

Then he heard sounds on the other side of the door at the top of the steps. Phil held his pistol ready. One of the gunmen, worried by the prolonged absence of Graybeard, might be coming down to see what was happening in the secret room.

The door swung open, and, to Phil’s relief, Pat leaped down the stairs. Phil met him halfway. “What happened?” he asked nervously. “The girls--are they all right?”

“Everybody’s just fine,” Pat said, grinning. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Let’s see what you have here first.”

He bent down and yanked the beard and mask from the unconscious man’s face.

“Whew!” Pat and Phil whistled in one breath. “Our nice cheap laundry man!”

For it was Mr. Taggart, and, as he regained consciousness, glaring with rage up at Phil, his face was anything but pleasant.