Chapter IV: Part 4

"Practically so," he answered. "If my lawyer, Mr. Adams, approves the abstract, the deal will be completed. Against my advice Mrs. Van Cleve already has given Blake five hundred dollars to hold an option."

"Why did she do that, Dad?"

"Well, Blake convinced her he had another buyer for the property. It's the old story. Competition stimulates interest."

"Do the papers seem to be all right?"

"Oh, I've not looked at them," Mr. Parker replied. "Blake is a good real estate man though, so there's not likely to be any flaw."

"Who actually owns the property, Dad?"

"It's there on the abstract," he answered. "Why not look it up for yourself?"

"Too much like doing home-work," Penny grinned, but she spread the document on the desk and began to read various names aloud. "'Anna and Harry Clark to Lydia Goldwein, Lydia Goldwein to Benjamin Bowman--'"

"What was that name?" Mr. Parker demanded sharply.

"Benjamin Bowman." Penny peered at the document a second time to make certain she had made no mistake. "That's the truth, Dad. Who knows, maybe it's your old pal, Ben!"

"Are you making up that name?" Mr. Parker asked skeptically.

Penny thrust the abstract into his hand. "Here, read it for yourself, Dad. Bowman seems to be the present owner of the land."

Mr. Parker rapidly scanned the document.

"The land is held by a Benjamin Bowman," he admitted, frowning. "A strange coincidence."

"I never heard of a Bowman family living near Riverview," Penny remarked, reaching for a telephone book. "Did you?"

"No, but Bowman is a fairly common name."

Turning to the "B" section Penny went through the telephone list.

"There's only one Bowman here," she said, penciling a circle around the name. "A Mrs. Maud Bowman."

"The name Maud Bowman doesn't appear on the abstract," Mr. Parker declared, as he studied the document once more. "There's something funny about this."

"Mr. Blake seemed rather eager to dispose of the land, didn't he?"

"His price was a bit low, which surprised me," Mr. Parker said, thinking aloud. "Probably everything can be explained satisfactorily."

"Then why not ask Mr. Blake to do it?" Penny proposed. "He should be able to tell you something about his client."

"That's really a first-class idea," Mr. Parker agreed and he reached for a telephone. "I'll ask Mr. Blake to come here at once."

CHAPTER
17
_FALSE RECORDS_

Mr. Blake, suave, completely at ease, sat opposite Mr. Parker and Penny in the editor's private office.

"I came as soon as I could after receiving your telephone message, Mr. Parker," he said pleasantly. "Now what seems to be the trouble?"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered you," the editor apologized. "However, in glancing over the abstract for the Orphans' Camp property I noticed that the land is owned by a man named Benjamin Bowman."

"Quite true. I am acting as his agent."

"It happens that I have had dealings with a man by that same name," resumed Mr. Parker. "Rather unpleasant dealings, I might add. I'm curious to learn if this property owner is the same fellow."

"Very unlikely, I think," Mr. Blake shrugged. "My client does not reside in Riverview."

"Nor does the man I have in mind."

"Can you tell us what he looks like?" Penny interposed eagerly.

"I am very sorry, but I can't," Mr. Blake returned. "I've never met Mr. Bowman."

"Yet you act as his agent?" Mr. Parker inquired in astonishment.

"All our dealings have been by mail or telephone."

"I see," the editor commented reflectively. "Well, at least you can provide me with the man's address."

"I can't do that either," Mr. Blake declined. "Benjamin Bowman is a salesman with no permanent address. He communicates with me at fairly regular intervals, but until I hear from him, I have no idea where he will be the following week."

"Your description seems to fit the man of my acquaintance," Mr. Parker said dryly. "But tell me, how do you expect to complete this deal? Will Bowman come here to sign the necessary papers?"

"Oh, that won't be required. He's already made out the sales documents, and also given me a power of attorney."

"Mr. Bowman seems to think of everything," Mr. Parker remarked grimly. "I was hoping for the pleasure of meeting him."

"I really don't see what all this has to do with the sale of the property," Mr. Blake reproved in a mild voice. "You feel that the site is a suitable one, and the price right?"

"I have no serious objections to it."

"Then why allow your personal feelings to interfere with the deal?"

"I have no intention of doing so," Mr. Parker answered.

"Then if you'll give your approval, we'll sign the final papers tomorrow at my office. The dedication of the new camp has been set for the tenth of the month, and that means no time can be lost."

"Everything seems to have been settled without my approval," Mr. Parker said, smiling. "However, if you don't mind, I'll keep this abstract a little longer."

"As you like," the real estate man shrugged. "Have your lawyer go over the records with a fine tooth comb. He'll find no flaws anywhere."

Arising, Mr. Blake bowed politely and left the office. Penny waited until she knew that he was a considerable distance from the door before seeking her father's opinion of the interview.

"Everything may be on the level," he conceded, frowning. "I've no reason to distrust Blake, and yet I can't help feeling that there's something peculiar about this land deal."

"Blake has been rushing things through at such a furious rate," Penny nodded. "Another thing, Ben Bowman is a well-known forger."

"What makes you think that?" the editor asked alertly. "Any real information?"

Penny revealed everything she had learned that day at Claymore. Mr. Parker listened attentively, making few comments until she had finished.

"I am more than ever convinced there is something phoney about Bowman's connection with this affair," he declared grimly. "We'll see what my lawyer has to say."

Having made up his mind that the transaction merited a thorough investigation, Mr. Parker personally carried the questionable abstract to a reliable law firm, Adams and McPherson. The report came back late in the afternoon, and was relayed to Penny at the dinner table.

"Mr. Adams says that the abstract seems to be drawn up correctly," the editor disclosed. "He could find no flaw in it or in any of the records at the court house."

"Then apparently we jumped too hasty to conclusions," Penny remarked in disappointment.

"I'm not so sure. Mr. Adams tells me that the ownership of the property is a very muddled affair."

"Muddled?"

"Yes, it has changed hands many times in the past year, and oddly, none of the buyers or sellers seem to be known in Riverview."

"What does Mr. Adams think about that, Dad?"

"He advises that the records be inspected very carefully. It will take weeks though, for they are quite involved."

"I suppose that will hold up the opening of the camp."

"It may," Mr. Parker acknowledged. "However, it seems wise to take every precaution even if the camp isn't opened this year. Too much money is involved to risk paying for land which may have a faulty title."

The following day, the editor conferred with members of the Camp Fund board, telling of his findings. To his chagrin, Mrs. Van Cleve did not share his views.

"I trust Mr. Blake's judgment implicitly," she insisted. "I am sure the property will be satisfactory in every way. If there should by chance be any flaw in the title, he would make it good."

"We can't possibly delay the dedication another week," added another feminine member of the board. "The summer is nearly over now."

"At least postpone making the final payment until after I have had another report from my lawyers," Mr. Parker pleaded.

"Very well, we'll do that," Mrs. Van Cleve agreed. "Mr. Blake is so obliging I am sure he will allow us to set up equipment on the land, even though we don't actually possess title."

The entire transaction seemed very unbusinesslike to Mr. Parker, but he did not attempt to force his opinion upon the board members. Accordingly, plans went forward for the grand opening of the camp. Stories appeared regularly in the _Star_, playground equipment and floored tents were set up on the camp site, and the actual dedication program was announced.

"You might know Mr. Blake would be invited to make the main speech," Penny remarked disapprovingly as she scanned the latest story of the coming affair. "Every day, in every way, he gives me a bigger and bigger pain!"

Throughout the week both she and Louise had been very active, helping out at the new camp site. The land had been cleared of underbrush, trails had been constructed, and a well dug. While supervising the setting-up of slides, merry-go-rounds and teeter-totters, Penny upon several occasions had had disagreements with Mr. Blake. The man remained at the site almost constantly, imposing his wishes upon everyone.

"A great deal of time and money has been spent getting that place ready for the dedication," Penny commented to her father. "If anything should happen that the final papers aren't signed, it would be a pity."

"I've had no report as yet," Mr. Parker answered. "My lawyers tell me they never delved into a more involved case."

"What does Mr. Blake think about the investigation?"

"He seems to be agreeable. However, I suspect he's been working on the various board members, trying to get them to conclude the deal without waiting."

"How long will it be before you'll have a final report, Dad?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I expected to get it long before this."

In the flurry of preparing for the camp dedication, Penny had no opportunity to give much thought to other affairs. She did not see Seth McGuire, the sheriff had nothing to disclose concerning Clem Davis' disappearance, and the Black Hoods seemed to have become an extinct organization.

On the morning of the designated date, Penny was abroad early. She and Louise planned to drive to the dedication exercises together, and wished to arrive before the grounds were congested. Eating breakfast hurriedly, Penny scarcely noticed when her father was called to the telephone. He absented himself from the dining room nearly fifteen minutes. As he returned to the table, Penny pushed back her chair, ready to leave.

"Well, I'll see you at the camp grounds, Dad," she said lightly.

"I don't know what to do about the dedication," responded Mr. Parker in a sober tone. "By rights there should be none."

Penny stared at him.

"I've just heard from my lawyers," Mr. Parker explained.

"Then, there is a flaw in the title as you suspected!"

"Decidedly. It's a very mixed-up mess, and as yet we're not sure what it may mean."

"Tell me about it, Dad," Penny pleaded, sliding back into her chair.

"Benjamin Bowman--whoever he may be--doesn't own the camp property."

"Then in whose name is it?"

"The property doesn't belong to anyone."

"Why, how ridiculous!" Penny exclaimed. "Doesn't every piece of land in the world belong to someone?"

"Actually the heirs of Rosanna and Joseph Schulta own this particular property. But there are no heirs."

"What you say doesn't make sense to me, Dad."

"The whole affair is very involved," Mr. Parker explained. "In tracing back the history of the land, my lawyers found that originally it was owned by Rosanna and Joseph Schulta, an elderly couple, who had no known relatives. They sailed for Germany more than fifty years ago. The ship sank, and presumably they were lost. Their land was never claimed, and somehow the state overlooked the case."

"But I thought the property had changed hands many times in recent years!"

"Only theoretically. All those records have been falsified."

"By whom, Dad? Ben Bowman?"

"My lawyers are inclined to think Blake may be at the bottom of it. He is a very shrewd real estate man, and in examining records at the court house, he may have learned about this floating property."

"Then he deliberately tried to cheat the Camp Fund board!"

"It looks that way. Neither Ben Bowman nor anyone else owns the property. Had you not noticed his name on the abstract, it's unlikely the fraud would have been uncovered for quite a few years to come."

"What will you do, Dad?" Penny inquired, deeply distressed. "The dedication is scheduled to start within an hour."

"I don't see how it can be postponed," Mr. Parker said soberly. "It will have to go on according to schedule."

"Afterwards you'll ask for Blake's arrest?"

"There's no real evidence against him."

"No evidence!"

"He claims to be a mere agent of Ben Bowman. All of the deeds and legal papers were drawn up by some other person. If any accusation is made against him, he can escape by maintaining that he knew nothing of the back records."

"There's one person who might be able to implicate him!" Penny exclaimed. "Ben Bowman!"

"Bowman should have it in his power to clear up some of the mystery," Mr. Parker agreed. "But how are we to find him?"

"I don't know," Penny admitted. "It looks rather hopeless unless the police just present him to us wrapped in pink ribbon."

The clock struck nine. Daring not to linger any longer, Penny hastily bade her father goodbye and left the house.

Driving to the camp site with Louise Sidell, she told her chum of the latest complications.

"Mr. Blake is one of the worst hypocrites in the world," she declared feelingly. "He pretends he wants to help the orphans, and all the while he intends to trick the Board and make a nice profit for himself."

"Your father won't let him get away with it," Louise returned confidently. "So long as the money hasn't been paid over there's no need to worry."

Arriving at the camp site, the girls went at once to the official tent. To their surprise, Mr. Blake, Mrs. Van Cleve, and all members of the Board save Mr. Parker, were there. On the table lay various legal papers which bore signatures still moist with ink.

Penny gazed from one person to another, slowly comprehending the scene.

"You're not buying this property!" she exclaimed in protest.

Mrs. Van Cleve's reply stunned her.

"It seemed unreasonable to keep Mr. Blake waiting," the woman said quietly. "The transaction has just been completed."

CHAPTER
18
_ADELLE'S ACCUSATION_

"Oh, Mrs. Van Cleve! You've been cheated!"

The signing of the papers had taken Penny so by surprise that she did not weigh her words before speaking. Too late, she realized that her father never would approve of revealing the facts in such blunt fashion. However, having said so much, she was determined to go on.

"My dear, what do you mean?" inquired Mrs. Van Cleve, troubled by the unexpected accusation.

"Any money paid for this land will be lost! My father has just learned--"

"I resent such loose talk!" Mr. Blake broke in irritably. "Mr. Bowman, whom I represent, has taken a substantial loss on the property."

"And who is Ben Bowman?" Penny challenged. "You can't produce him, nor prove that he owns the land. The title is faulty. Neither you nor Ben Bowman has any right to sell it!"

"This isn't true?" Mrs. Van Cleve asked the real estate man.

"Certainly not! You may be sure that if there is the slightest flaw in the title, I shall return your cheque."

"Perhaps, considering the uncertainty, it might be wise to postpone payment until I have talked again with Mr. Parker," Mrs. Van Cleve said diffidently.

The real estate man made no attempt to hide his annoyance. "My dear Mrs. Van Cleve," he said, "the deal already has been completed. I have tried to remain patient, but really this is too much."

On the table lay several typewritten papers. Clipped neatly to the uppermost one, was the cheque endorsed by Mrs. Van Cleve. Mr. Blake reached to take possession of it, but his move was deliberate. Acting impulsively, Penny darted forward and seized the bit of paper. To the horror of everyone in the tent, she tore the cheque into a dozen pieces and tossed them into the air.

"There!" she announced, a trifle stunned by her own act.

"Penelope, you shouldn't have done that," Mrs. Van Cleve reproved, but she smiled faintly.

"You are an outrageous child!" Mr. Blake exclaimed, losing his temper. "What do you expect to accomplish by such a stupid trick? Mrs. Van Cleve will merely write out another cheque."

"Well, under the circumstance, it might be better to wait," the club woman demurred. "I really shouldn't have acted without consulting Mr. Parker."

"Unless the transaction is completed now I shall have nothing to do with the dedication," Mr. Blake declared. "I shall decline to make my speech."

Penny's broad grin made it clear that she thought the loss would not be a great one.

"Furthermore, I shall ask that my recent donation be returned," Mr. Blake resumed severely. "I shall withdraw this property for sale--"

"_You_ will withdraw it!" Penny caught him up. "I thought you merely were acting as the agent for Benjamin Bowman!"

"I mean I shall make such a suggestion to him," the real estate man amended.

Penny waited anxiously for Mrs. Van Cleve's decision. To her relief, the society woman seemed annoyed by the attitude Mr. Blake had taken.

"I am sorry," she said coldly. "If you don't wish to make the dedication speech, we will manage to do without your services. As for the cheque, I cannot make out another until I have discussed the situation with Mr. Parker."

The argument went on, but Penny did not remain to hear it. Louise took her forcibly by the arm, fairly pulling her outside the tent.

"Haven't you caused enough trouble?" she demanded disapprovingly. "Such a mess as everything is in now!"

"I don't care," Penny replied. "I saved the Camp Fund money. Mrs. Van Cleve was glad I tore up the cheque too! She just didn't dare say so."

"There will be no dedication. What will everyone think?"

Disconsolately, Louise gazed toward the area which had been roped off for cars. Although it was half an hour before the formal program was to start, hundreds of persons had arrived. On a platform, built especially for the occasion, an orchestra played spritely selections. There were picnic tables and a stone fireplace for outdoor cooking.

As the girls wandered slowly toward the river, a bus loaded with orphans arrived from the Riverview Home. With shrieks of laughter, the children swarmed over the grounds, taking possession of swings, sand pile, and slides.

"It seems a pity," Louise remarked again.

By ten o'clock the grounds were jammed with visitors. Penny knew that her father must have arrived for the exercises, but although she searched everywhere, she could not find him. In roving about, she did meet Mr. Blake, who pretended not to see her.

How matters had been arranged, the girls did not know. However, promptly at ten-thirty, the dedication exercises began, exactly as scheduled. Mr. Blake occupied the platform with other members of the board, and at the proper time made a brief and rather curt speech.

"Everything seems to have turned out rather well," Louise remarked in relief. "Mr. Blake may not be such a bad sort after all."

"Don't you believe it," Penny returned. "He's just clever enough never to put himself in a bad light if he can help it. I only hope Mrs. Van Cleve didn't give in to him and sign another cheque."

Following the dedication exercises, a portion of the crowd dispersed, but many persons remained to enjoy picnic lunches. Penny and Louise ate their own sandwiches, and then watched the orphans at play.

"The new camp director seems very efficient," Louise remarked, her gaze upon a young man who supervised the children.

Presently, as the girls watched, the camp supervisor announced that he would take several boys and girls for a sail on the river. The boat, a twelve-foot dinghy, had been the gift of a well-to-do Riverview department store owner.

Immediately there was a great clamor from the children, for everyone wanted to take the first ride.

"Only six may go," the director said, and called off the names.

Penny and Louise wandered down to the water's edge to watch the loading of the boat. Adelle had been one of the orphans chosen, and they waved reassuringly to her.

The camp director shoved off, and quickly raised the sail. There were squeals of delight from the children as it filled, causing the craft to heel over slightly.

"The breeze is quite uncertain today," Penny remarked anxiously. "I hope that young man knows what he is about."

The boat sailed a diagonal course across the river, turned, and came back on another tack. Then as the breeze died, it seemed to make no progress at all. Losing interest, Penny and Louise started to walk on down the shore.

Scarcely had they turned away than they were startled to hear screams from the river. Whirling around, they saw that the camp director was in serious trouble. A sudden puff of wind had caught the boat when it did not have steerage way. Unable to drive ahead, it slowly tilted sideways.

"It's going over!" Louise screamed.

Already Penny had kicked off her shoes. Without waiting for the inevitable result, she plunged into the river. When her head emerged from the water, she saw the boat on its side. Two children were clinging to it, the camp director was frantically trying to support two others, while another girl and boy struggled wildly to keep from sinking.

Swimming as rapidly as she could, Penny reached the overturned boat. Her first act was to help the camp director who was being strangled by the two children who clung to him. Drawing the trio to the craft, she then seized a struggling boy by the hair, and pulled him to safety.

"Adelle!" the camp director gasped. "Get her!"

The little girl had been carried a considerable distance from the boat. Penny started to swim toward her, but she saw that it would not be necessary. From the forest close by had emerged an unshaven man in rough, soiled clothing. Diving into the water, he seized Adelle, and swam with her to shore.

Penny did not return to the overturned boat for several men had waded out to tow it to land. Concerned regarding Adelle, she followed the child's rescuer.

The man bore the orphan in his arms to a grassy spot on shore. Stretching her out there, he hesitated an instant, and then before the crowd could surround him, darted quickly away toward the woods.

"Wait!" Penny shouted, wading through the shallow water.

The man heard, but paid no heed. He entered the forest and was lost to view.

"That was Clem Davis!" Penny thought tensely. "I'm sure of it!"

Before she could reach Adelle, other persons had gathered around the child. Clyde Blake pushed through the crowd.

"What is this?" he inquired. "What has happened?"

As the man bent over Adelle, the little girl opened her eyes, gazing directly into his face. For a moment she stared at him in a bewildered way. Then, struggling to a sitting position, she pointed an accusing finger.

"You are the one!" she whispered shakily. "You're the man whose car killed my Mother and Daddy!"

CHAPTER
19
_TRAILING A FUGITIVE_

Adelle's accusation brought a murmur of consternation and shocked surprise from the crowd. Mr. Blake, however, seemed undisturbed. Dropping on his knees, he supported Adelle and wrapped his coat about her trembling shoulders.

"There, there, my poor child," he said soothingly. "You are quite upset, and for good reason."

"Don't touch me," Adelle shivered, cringing away. "You're mean and cruel!"

By this time, Miss Anderson and other officials of the Riverview Home had reached the scene. Somewhat sternly they tried to silence the child.

"She doesn't know what she is saying," Miss Anderson apologized to Mr. Blake. "Adelle has been very nervous since she was in an automobile accident."

"I quite understand," the real estate man responded. "The child must have a change of clothing, and no doubt, medical care. May I send her to the Home in my car?"

"Why, that is very kind of you, I am sure," Miss Anderson said gratefully.

With every appearance of concern, Mr. Blake picked Adelle up in his arms and carried her away. Penny was kept busy helping bundle up the other children who had been rescued from the water. None the worse for the misadventure, they too were taken to Mr. Blake's car.

"Here, put on my coat before you freeze," Louise said anxiously to Penny after the automobile had sped away. "We must start home at once."

"I don't want to go now!" Penny protested. "Did you notice that man who pulled Adelle from the water?"

"He looked like a tramp. I wonder what made him run away?"

"Lou, I think that man was Clem Davis. By rights I should tell the sheriff, but I can't bring myself to do it--not after the way he saved Adelle."

"Never mind all that now," Louise said, forcing Penny toward the car. "You must go home and change your wet clothes."

"But I want to find Clem Davis and talk with him!"

"That will have to wait. You're going home!" Taking her chum firmly by the arm, Louise pushed her into the car.

At the Parker home, Penny changed her clothes, discussing the day's events as she dried her hair. Adelle's accusation had not escaped her, and she had taken it more seriously than did others in the crowd.

"Perhaps that child knew what she was talking about!" she declared to Louise. "Blake's car may have been the one which killed her parents!"

"Oh, Penny, you're so hopelessly prejudiced against the man," her chum replied.

"Maybe I am, but Adelle is the only person who can identify the hit-run motorist."

"Even so, you know she probably is not a reliable witness."

"I'll grant that her accident today may have upset her emotionally," Penny conceded. "After she recovers, I'm curious to learn what she'll have to say."

The hour was so late that the girls did not return to the camp site. Louise soon went to her own home and Penny was left alone. She restlessly wandered about, polished the car, and fretted because neither her father nor Mrs. Weems came home. At length, for want of another occupation, she motored to the Riverview Home on the pretext of inquiring about the condition of the children rescued from the water.

"They're doing just fine," Miss Anderson assured her. "That is, all except Adelle. The child is very upset."

"Has she said anything more about Mr. Blake?" Penny inquired.

"She doesn't know his name, but she keeps insisting he was the man whose car killed her parents. I never was so mortified in my life as when she made the accusation. Fortunately, Mr. Blake did not take offense."

Penny was eager to talk with Adelle, and Miss Anderson said that she might do so for a few minutes. The little girl had been put to bed but seemed quite content as she played with a new doll.

"Mr. McGuire sent me this," she said, holding it up for Penny to see. "I've named her Imogene."

Miss Anderson was called to the telephone. During the young woman's absence, Penny discreetly questioned Adelle about the motor accident in which her parents had lost their lives. She was worried lest the child be upset again, but to her relief Adelle answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"No one will believe me," the little girl said. "Just the same, that man I saw today was the one who ran into my Daddy's car. He had a big, gray automobile with a horn on it that played a tune."

"A gray car?" Penny repeated thoughtfully. "I'm quite sure Mr. Blake's sedan is dark blue. Why, you were taken home in his automobile this afternoon, Adelle."

"It wasn't that car," the child answered. "He must have another one."

Miss Anderson re-entered the room, so Penny did not ask additional questions. Soon leaving the Home, she motored slowly toward the camp site by the river. Although she readily understood that Adelle might be mistaken, a conviction was growing upon her that Clyde Blake could have been the hit-run driver.

"Even if he doesn't drive a gray car, that proves nothing," she mused. "He easily could have changed it during the past year."

Penny thought that she might find her father or some of the Camp Board officials still at the river. However, as she drove into the parking area, she observed that the grounds were entirely deserted. Paper plates, napkins and newspapers had been blown helter-skelter by the wind. Picnic tables still held the unsightly remains of lunches. The speakers' platform had been torn down, even the tents were gone, for it was not planned to make practical use of the grounds until more work had been done.

As Penny was starting to drive away, she noticed a lone man near one of the picnic tables. He was dressed in rough, unpressed garments, and seemed to be scavenging food which had been left behind.

"That's the same man who pulled Adelle from the water!" she thought alertly.

Leaping from the car, Penny ran toward him.

Hearing footsteps, the man turned and saw her. Almost in panic he started for the woods.

"Wait!" Penny shouted. "I won't turn you over to the police! Please wait!"

The man hesitated, and then apparently deciding that he had nothing to fear from a girl, paused.

"I want to thank you for saving Adelle," Penny said breathlessly. "Why did you run away?"

"Well, I don't know," the man answered, avoiding her gaze. "I never liked crowds."

Penny decided to risk a direct accusation. "You are Clem Davis," she said, eyeing him steadily.

"That's a laugh," the man retorted, starting to edge away. "My name is Thomas Ryan."

"Now please don't run away again," Penny pleaded, sensing his intention. "If you are Clem Davis, and I'm sure you are, I want to help you."

"How could you help me?"

"By exposing the men who framed you. I never believed that you set fire to the Preston barn."

"I never did."

"Please tell me about it," Penny urged, seating herself at one of the picnic benches.

"Who are you anyhow?" the man asked suspiciously. "Why are you so willing to help me, as you say?"

"I'm Penelope Parker, and my father publishes the _Star_."

"Oh, I see, you're after a story!"

"No, that part is only incidental," Penny said hurriedly. "What my father really wants to do is to expose the Black Hoods and drive them out of existence. You're the one person who might be able to provide evidence which would convict the guilty parties."

"I could tell plenty if I was a mind to do it. No one would believe me though."

"I will, Mr. Davis."

"I was in the notion of going to the Grand Jury at one time," the man said slowly. "That's what brought on all my trouble. If I'd had sense enough to have kept my mouth shut, I wouldn't be a fugitive now."

"What connection did you have with the Hoods? Were you a member of the organization?"

"Yes, I was," the man admitted reluctantly. "I didn't know much about the Hoods when I joined 'em. Then I tried to drop out, and that's what turned 'em against me."

"Suppose you tell me all about it. What is the real purpose of the organization?"

"Well, right now the Hoods are trying to force every truck farmer in this district to join the County Cooperative."

"Then Hank Holloway must be the ring leader!" Penny exclaimed, startled by the information.

"No, he's not at the head of the Hoods," Clem Davis corrected.

"Who is the man?" Penny questioned eagerly.

Clem Davis started to speak, then hesitated. An automobile had driven into the parking area only a few rods away. Several workmen who had been assigned to clean up the grounds, alighted.

"They're coming this way," Clem Davis said uneasily. "I can't risk being seen."

Abruptly, he started toward the sheltering trees.

"Wait!" Penny pleaded, pursuing him. "You haven't told me half enough. Please wait!"

"I'm not going to risk arrest," the man returned over his shoulder.

"At least meet me here again!"

"Okay, I'll do that," Clem Davis agreed.

"Tomorrow night just at dusk," Penny said quickly. "And please don't fail me. I promise. I'll help you."

CHAPTER
20
_CLEM DAVIS' DISCLOSURE_

After Clem Davis had disappeared into the woods, Penny wasted no more time in the vicinity. Jumping into her car, she drove home in a daze of excitement, to tell her father the amazing story.

"Meeting that man was wonderful luck!" she assured him exultantly. "Why, if only he reveals what he knows, we will get an exclusive story for the _Star_! We'll expose the Hoods and put an end to the organization!"

"As easy as that?" laughed Mr. Parker. "Seriously though, I think we are on the verge of cracking the story. In going over the books of the County Cooperative, Jerry has discovered any number of discrepancies."

"I've always thought that Hank Holloway might be connected with the Hoods, Dad! I believe he was the night rider who made off with Mrs. Davis' melons."

"Any idea who the other members of the outfit may be?"

"Not yet, but I expect to find out when I meet Clem Davis tomorrow."

"I'll go with you," Mr. Parker declared. "Maybe I should take Sheriff Daniels along too."

"Oh, Dad," Penny protested indignantly. "I promised to help Clem, not turn him over to an officer. I am afraid that unless I go alone, he'll not even show himself."

"Perhaps it would be best for you to go by yourself," the editor admitted. "Learn what you can from Davis, and make an appointment for him to see me."

Another matter weighed heavily on Penny's mind. In her encounter with Clyde Blake that morning, she had acted in a high-handed manner, and sooner or later her father must hear about the cheque episode.

"Dad, I have a confession to make," she began awkwardly. "When I reached the camp this morning I found that Mr. Blake had induced the board members to buy the property--"

"Never mind," Mr. Parker interrupted. "I've already heard the details of your disgraceful actions from Mrs. Van Cleve."

"I'm thoroughly ashamed of myself," Penny said contritely. "I tore up the cheque on the spur of the moment."

"It was a foolish, rather dramatic thing to do. However, I must acknowledge the result was highly pleasing to everyone save Clyde Blake."

"What does he have to say, Dad?"

"He claims that he acted in good faith for Benjamin Bowman. Likewise, that he had no suspicion the title was faulty."

"Naturally he would take such an attitude."

"I've asked Blake to produce Ben Bowman," Mr. Parker resumed. "Unless he can do so and prove that the property actually is owned by him, the deal is off."

"Do you think Blake will bring the man to Riverview?"

"I doubt it very much," the editor answered. "I suspect he'll bluff, and finally let the deal go by default. It will be an easy way out for him."

"Blake always seems to escape his misdeeds. I wish we could find Ben Bowman ourselves, and bring the two men together. That would be interesting!"

"Finding Ben Bowman would serve many useful purposes," Mr. Parker said grimly. "But now that I would actually welcome a communication from him, he no longer pesters me!"

Eagerly Penny awaited the hour appointed for her meeting with Clem Davis. Knowing that the man did not obtain enough to eat, she spent considerable time the next afternoon preparing a lunch basket of substantial food. Taking it with her, she waited at the camp site for nearly a half hour. Finally, just as she began to think that the man had failed her, he appeared.

"I've brought you some hot coffee," Penny said, taking the plug from a thermos bottle. "A little food too."

"Say, that's swell!" the man murmured gratefully. "My wife slips me a handout whenever she can, but lately the house has been watched so closely, she can't get away."

Seating himself at the picnic table, Clem Davis drained the cup of coffee in a few swallows, and greedily devoured a sandwich.

"Now what do you want to know?" he asked gruffly.

Mr. Parker had told Penny exactly what questions to ask. She began with the most important one.

"Mr. Davis, tell me, who is the head man of the Hoods?"

"I don't know myself," he answered promptly. "At the meetings, the Master always wore a robe and a black hood. None of the members ever were permitted to see his face."

"You have no idea who the man may be?"

Clem Davis shook his head as he bit into another sandwich. "I doubt there are more than one or two members of the order who know his identity. Hank Holloway might, or maybe Charley Phelps."

"Is Phelps a member?" Penny asked quickly.

"One of the chief ones. Most of the meetings are held at his place."

"You don't mean at the Hubell Tower?"

Penny's pulse had stepped up to a faster pace, for the information was of the greatest value. Furthermore, it thrilled her that her own theory regarding Charley Phelps was receiving support.

"Sure, the Hoods meet at the Tower about once a month," Clem Davis disclosed. "Usually they get together on the thirteenth, but sometimes they have extra sessions. When special meetings are held, a green light burns on the tower, or the clock strikes thirteen times just at midnight."

"I thought so!" Penny exclaimed, highly elated. "Tell me, why did you decide to break your connection with the Hoods?"

"I joined the organization before I knew what I was letting myself in for. When they made plans to burn the Preston barn, I wanted to quit. The Hoods threatened me, and to get even, planted evidence that made it look as if I had set the fire."

Penny was inclined to believe that Clem Davis had told a straight story for it coincided with her own theories. Always it had seemed to her that evidence pointing to his guilt had been entirely too plain. To corroborate her conclusions, she had brought from home the watch fob found at the Davis stable, hoping that he might identify it.

"That's not mine," he said promptly when she showed the article to him. "I never saw it before."

Penny opened the tiny case, displaying the child's picture. However, the man had no idea who the little boy might be.

"Mr. Davis," she said quietly, replacing the watch fob in her pocket. "I believe in your innocence, and I want to help you. I am sure I can, providing you are willing to cooperate."

"I've already told you about everything I know."

"You've given me splendid information," Penny praised. "What I want you to do is to talk with my father. He'll probably ask you to repeat your story to the Grand Jury."

"I'd be a fool to do that," Clem Davis responded. "I can't prove any of my statements. The Preston fire would be pinned on me, and the Hoods might try to harm my wife. Why, they ran off with a truck load of our melons the other night."

"I know. But unless someone has the courage to speak out against the Hoods they'll become bolder and do even more harm. Supposing you were promised absolute protection. Then would you go before the Grand Jury?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure. But who can guarantee I'll not be made to pay?"

"I think my father can," Penny assured him. "Will you meet him here tomorrow night at this same hour?"

"Okay," the man agreed, getting up from the table. "You seem to be on the level."

"I'll bring more food tomorrow," Penny said as an extra inducement. "You must have had a hard time since you've been hiding out in the woods."

"Oh, it's not so bad once you get used to it," the man shrugged. "I've got a pretty good place to sleep now."

"Inside a building?" Penny asked curiously.

"An automobile," the man grinned. "Someone abandoned it in the swamp and I've taken possession."

"An old one, I suppose."

"Not so old," Clem Davis answered. "Funny thing, it's a 1941 Deluxe model with good upholstery. The only thing I can see wrong with it is that the front grill and fenders have been smashed."

"The car isn't by chance a gray one?"

"Yes, it is," the man admitted. "How did you guess?"

"I didn't guess," Penny returned soberly. "I have a suspicion that car is the one which killed two people about a year ago. Mr. Davis, you must take me to it at once!"

CHAPTER
21
_A BROKEN PROMISE_

"You want me to take you to the abandoned car now?" Clem Davis echoed in surprise. "It's located deep in the swamp, just off a side road."

"Would it require long to get there?" Penny asked thoughtfully.

"A half hour at least. With night coming on you wouldn't be able to see a thing."

"It is getting dark," Penny admitted regretfully. "Everything considered, I guess it would be better to wait until tomorrow. But in the meantime, I wish you would search the car carefully. Get the engine number--anything which might help to identify the owner."

"The engine number has been filed off," Clem answered. "I'll give the car a good going over though to see what I can learn. Thanks for the food."

Raising his hand in a semi salute, the man started into the woods.

"Don't forget to meet Dad and me tomorrow night," Penny called after him. "We'll be waiting here about this same time."

The interview with the fugitive had more than fulfilled Penny's expectations. Driving straight home, she made a full report of the talk to her father. Breathlessly, she revealed that the Hoods held monthly meetings at the Hubell Tower, and that both Hank Holloway and Charley Phelps were members of the order.

"You weren't able to learn the name of the head man?" Mr. Parker questioned.

"No, Clem didn't know it himself. He says the Master never shows himself to anyone, but always appears in mask."

Mr. Parker began to pace the floor, a habit of his when under mental stress. The information Penny had acquired was of utmost importance. He believed it to be authentic, but he dared not overlook the possibility that Clem Davis had deliberately lied.

"We must move cautiously on this story," he said aloud. "Should we make false accusations against innocent persons, the _Star_ would face disastrous lawsuits."

"You're not going to withhold the information from the public?" Penny demanded in disappointment.

"For the present, I must. The thing for us to do is to try to learn the identity of the head man. Any news published in the _Star_ would only serve as a tip-off to him."

"You're right, of course," Penny agreed after a moment of silence.

"Now that we have such a splendid start, it should be easy to gain additional information," the editor resumed. "You say the meetings usually are held on the thirteenth of the month?"

"That's what Clem Davis told me."

"Then we'll arrange to have the Tower watched on that night. In the meantime, I'll see Davis and learn what I can from him. Jerry is working on the County Cooperative angle of the story, and should have some interesting facts soon."

Penny knew that her father was adopting a wise policy, but she could not help feeling slightly disappointed. Always eager for action, she had hoped that Clem Davis' disclosures would lead to the immediate arrest of both Hank Holloway and Charley Phelps. However, she brightened at the thought that at least additional revelations might follow her father's meeting with the fugitive.

The following night, shortly after six-thirty, Penny and Mr. Parker presented themselves at the Orphans' Camp site. They had brought a basket of food, coffee, and a generous supply of cigarettes.

"What time did Davis promise to meet you?" Mr. Parker asked impatiently.

"He should be here now," Penny returned. "I can't imagine why he's late."

Another half hour elapsed, and still the fugitive did not appear. Mr. Parker paced restlessly beside the picnic table, becoming increasingly impatient.

"He's probably waiting until after dark," Penny declared optimistically.

Another hour elapsed. The shadows deepened and a chill wind blew from the river. Hungry mosquitoes kept Mr. Parker more than occupied as he sought to protect himself.

"Well, I've had enough of this!" he announced at last. "The man isn't coming."

"Oh, Dad, let's wait just a little longer," Penny coaxed. "I'm sure he meant to keep his promise."

"Perhaps he did, although I'm inclined to think otherwise. At any rate, I am going home!"

Penny had no choice but to follow her father to the car. She could not understand Clem Davis' failure to appear unless he had feared that he would be placed under arrest. While it was quite possible that the man might come to the picnic grounds the following night, she was afraid she would never see him again.

"I half expected this to happen," Mr. Parker remarked as he drove toward Riverview. "Unless we can get Davis to swear to his story, we haven't a scrap of real evidence against the Hoods."

"We may learn something on the night of the thirteenth," Penny said hopefully.

"Possibly, but I'm beginning to wonder if everything Davis told you may not have been for the purpose of deception."

"He seemed sincere. I can't believe he deliberately lied to me."

Submerged in gloom, Penny had little to say during the swift ride into Riverview. She could not blame her father for feeling annoyed, because the trip had cost him two hours of valuable time. Clem Davis' failure to appear undoubtedly might deprive the _Star_ of a spectacular scoop.

"Never mind," Mr. Parker said to comfort her. "It wasn't your fault. We'll find another way to get our information."

The car proceeded slowly through the downtown section of Riverview. Turning her head to read an electric sign, Penny's attention was drawn to a man in a gray suit who was walking close to the curb.

"Dad, stop the car!" she cried, seizing his arm. "There he is now!"

"Clem Davis?" Mr. Parker demanded, swerving the automobile toward a vacant space near the sidewalk.

"No! No! Ben Bowman! I'm sure it is he!"

Springing from the car, Penny glanced up the street. She had alighted just in time to see the man in gray enter a telegraph office.

"What nonsense is this?" Mr. Parker inquired impatiently. "Why do you think the fellow is Bowman?"

"I'm sure he's the same man I saw at Claymore. The one who tried to pass a forged cheque! Oh, please Dad, we can't let him get away!"

Switching off the car ignition, Mr. Parker stepped to the curb.

"If it should prove to be Ben Bowman, nothing would please me better than to nab him," he announced grimly. "But if you've made a mistake--"

"Come on," Penny urged, seizing his hand. "We can talk about it later."

Through the huge plate glass window of the telegraph office, the man in gray could be seen standing at one of the counters. His back was to the street and he appeared to be writing a message.

"I'm sure it's Ben Bowman," Penny said again. "Why not go inside and ask him if that's his name?"

"I shall. But I'm warning you again, if you've made one of your little mistakes--"

"Go ahead, faint heart!" Penny chuckled, giving him a tiny push. "I'll stay here by the door ready to stop him if he gets by you."

With no appearance of haste, Mr. Parker sauntered into the telegraph office. Deliberately taking a place at the counter close beside the man in gray, he pretended to write a message. Actually, he studied his companion, and attempted to read the lengthy telegram which the other had composed. Before he could do so, the man handed the paper to a girl clerk.

"Get this off right away," he instructed. "Send it collect."

The clerk examined the message, having difficulty in reading the writing.

"This night letter is to be sent to Anthony Parker?" she inquired.

"That's right," the man agreed.

Mr. Parker waited for no more. Touching the man on the arm, he said distinctly:

"I'll save you the trouble of sending that message. I am Anthony Parker."

The man whirled around, his face plainly showing consternation.

"You are Ben Bowman I assume," Mr. Parker said coolly. "I've long looked forward to meeting you."

"You've got me mixed up with someone else," the man mumbled, edging away. "My name's Clark Edgewater. See, I signed it to this telegram."

As proof of his contention, he pointed to the lengthy communication which lay on the counter. One glance satisfied Mr. Parker that it was another "crank" message.

"I don't care how you sign your name," he retorted. "You are Ben Bowman. We have a few matters to talk over."

The man gazed uncertainly at Mr. Parker. He started to speak, then changed his mind. Turning, he made a sudden break for the exit.

"Stop him!" Mr. Parker shouted. "Don't let him get away!"

Penny stood close to the door. As the man rushed toward her, she shot a bolt into place.

"Not quite so fast, Mr. Bowman," she said, smiling. "We really must have a chat with you."

CHAPTER
22
_THE MAN IN GRAY_

With the door locked, the man saw that he could not hope to escape. Accepting the situation, he regarded Mr. Parker and Penny with cold disdain.

"All right, my name is Ben Bowman," he acknowledged, shrugging. "So what?"

"You're the man who has been sending me collect messages for the past three months!" Mr. Parker accused.

"And what if I have? Is there any law against it? You run a lousy paper, and as a reader I have a right to complain!"

"But not at my expense. Another thing, I want to know what connection you've had with Clyde Blake."

"Never heard of him."

"Then you don't own property in this city?"

"Nor anywhere else. Now if you're through giving me the third degree, I'll move on."

"Not so fast," interposed Penny, refusing to unbar the door, "if I'm not mistaken you're the same man who is wanted at Claymore for forging a cheque."

"Really, this is too much!" Ben Bowman exclaimed angrily. "Unless you permit me to pass, I shall protest to the police."

"I see an officer just across the street," Mr. Parker declared. "Penny, will you call him over?"

"Just a minute," Ben Bowman interposed in an altered tone. "We can settle this ourselves. I'll admit I was hasty in sending those messages--just a way to let off steam, I guess. If you're willing to forget about it I'll repay you for every dollar you spent."

"I'm afraid I can't forget that easily," Mr. Parker retorted. "No, unless you're willing to come clean about your connection with Clyde Blake I'll have to call the police."

"What do you want to know about him?"

"Is he acting as your real estate agent?"

"Certainly not."

"You do know the man?"

"I've done a little work for him."

"Didn't he pay you to allow him to use your name on a deed?"

"He gave me twenty-five dollars to make out some papers for him. I only copied what he told me to write."

"That's all I want to know," Mr. Parker said grimly. "Penny, call the policeman!"

"See here," Bowman protested furiously, "you intimated that if I told what I knew about Blake you'd let me off. Why, you're as yellow as that paper you run!"

"I make no deals with men of your stamp!" Mr. Parker retorted.

As Penny unlocked the door, Ben Bowman made a break for freedom. However, the editor was entirely prepared. Seizing the man, he held him until Penny could summon the policeman. Still struggling, Bowman was loaded into a patrol wagon and taken to police headquarters.

"I guess that earns me a nice little one hundred dollars!" Penny remarked as she and her father went to their own car. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're entirely welcome," Mr. Parker grinned. "I never took greater pleasure in acknowledging a debt."

"What's your next move, Dad? Will you expose Clyde Blake in tomorrow's _Star_?"

"I'm tempted to do it, Penny. The evidence still is rather flimsy, but even if Ben Bowman denies his story, I think we can prove our charges."

"It's a pity you can't break the Hood yarn in the same edition," Penny said musingly. "What a front page that would make!"

"It certainly would be a good three pennies worth," Mr. Parker agreed. "Unfortunately, it will be many days before the Hoods are supposed to hold their meeting at the Tower."

"But why wait? We could call that gathering ourselves!"

"Just how?"

"Simple as pie. All we would need to do would be to have the clock strike thirteen instead of twelve." Penny glanced at her wrist watch and added persuasively: "We have several hours in which to work!"