Chapter III: Part 3

"The door may have an automatic catch."

"Probably that's so," Penny agreed to keep her chum from worrying. "Father Benedict should be back soon. Let's not let him know we even noticed the door was locked."

"Do you think he fastened it on purpose?"

"He may have," Penny said slowly. "Perhaps he didn't want us to wander about the monastery while he was gone."

"What if he doesn't come back?"

"He will, my pet. Now do stop worrying! The smart thing for us to do, is to learn what we can while we're here."

"A lot we can learn locked up in this stuffy room!"

Without replying, Penny wandered about the room, scrutinizing art objects and each piece of furniture.

"For a man who professes to live a life of poverty, Father Benedict shows quite a liking for luxury items," she remarked.

Coming to a battered desk cluttered with papers, she paused and eyed it thoughtfully.

"Penny, we wouldn't dare pry!" exclaimed Louise, guessing what was in her chum's mind.

"I suppose not," sighed Penny, "only I'm sure Mr. Ayling would do it if he were here. Those papers in the pigeon holes look as though they're unpaid bills--a whole stack of them too!"

On the desk lay an open account book and the girl gazed at it with keen interest. A long list of names had been written in ink. On one side of the ledger was a column marked "Contributions."

"Penny, you are snooping!" accused Louise, but she added with an excited laugh: "If you find anything worth while, let me know!"

"Then consider yourself officially notified!"

Startled, Louise went quickly to the desk. "What have you found?" she demanded.

Penny showed her the book in which were listed many names.

"This looks like a report covering donations made by cult members to the society!" she declared. "Do you suppose Mrs. Hawthorne's name is here?"

Hurriedly the girls examined the tiny ledger. First on the list was a Mrs. Carl Kingsley, who had contributed two diamond clips at estimated value of $650.

"Ever hear of her?" Penny asked, for the name was unfamiliar.

"Never. She may not be from Riverview."

Rapidly they scanned the entire list. There were many names, all of women. Contributions included cash, pearls, silver bracelets, gold wrist watches, an emerald pin, and other articles of jewelry.

However, the girls could not find Mrs. Hawthorne's name, nor that of her granddaughter.

"This list doesn't prove anything one way or the other," Penny said, carefully replacing the ledger on the desk where she had found it. "Mrs. Hawthorne could have joined the cult under a different name. Father Benedict might not even know who she is."

"Oh, Penny!" teased her companion. "You want to uncover a mystery so badly! Actually, there's not one bit of evidence that Mrs. Hawthorne ever came here."

"True," Penny acknowledged in a low tone, "but you will admit a lot of queer things have happened. For instance, who sent Mr. Ayling the fake telegram? And why hasn't he returned to Riverview as he said he would?"

"He's hardly had time yet. Anyway, what connection could his absence have with this monastery?"

"None, perhaps. Unless Mrs. Hawthorne should be here--"

"Oh, Penny! Father Benedict denied that she was, didn't he?"

"Yes, but that crystal ball reading he gave for Mr. Ayling's benefit was a strange affair. And Lou! The worst was, _he predicted harm would befall him_! Maybe it has!"

"So you're superstitious! Do you really believe in those crystal ball readings?"

"No, I'm not!" Penny denied hotly. "Not for a minute do I put any faith in that crystal ball! But--"

"Mr. Ayling is delayed in Chicago, so you start to worry," completed Louise. "Penny, you're certainly building up a case!"

"Maybe I am," Penny admitted with a shrug. "However, other things bother me too."

"For instance?"

"That scream we heard at midnight. Mr. Eckenrod and his wife told me they had been awakened by strange noises here."

"Didn't you understand from Father Benedict that Old Julia causes the commotion?"

"Yes, and it's plain to see she is a poor demented creature. Still, there's something about her--when we came in today, I had a feeling that she was trying to tell us something."

"She did warn us away. However, in her condition she might say anything. So I dismissed it."

"I wish I could talk to Old Julia when Father Benedict isn't around," Penny said soberly. "I have a hunch she could tell us interesting things about this place!"

"Then you do distrust Father Benedict!"

"Not exactly," Penny denied. "He's been pleasant enough to us, and I suppose he has a perfect right to start a crazy cult here if he chooses."

"It's not only crazy but profitable," Louise reminded her. "Those contributions listed total up to several thousand dollars!"

"According to Father Benedict, the money goes to charity. But what charity? It's a cinch he isn't spending much in supporting the members of his cult. This building is as barren as a barn, and I've not seen any supplies come into the place while we've been around!"

"And where are the cult members?"

"They must stay in their rooms."

"A fine life!"

"I'm sure there are people in this household who aren't listed in the ledger," Penny resumed thoughtfully. "For instance, that girl I saw when I came here with Mr. Ayling. Who is she, and where does she keep herself?"

"Why not ask Father Benedict--that is, if we ever get out of here."

"I can't quite bring myself to do it, Lou. If ever I started asking questions, I wouldn't know where to stop."

"There's only one that bothers me," Louise said, roving toward the door. "How are we going to get out of here? Let's call for help!"

"Okay," Penny agreed reluctantly. "I hate to do it though."

First testing the door again to be certain it was locked and not stuck, she pounded with her fists on the heavy oak paneling.

"Let us out!" Louise called loudly. "Let us out! We're locked in!"

"That ought to fetch someone!" chuckled Penny. "Listen! I think I hear footsteps now."

From down the corridor, the girls detected a soft patter and a creaking of boards. To attract attention to their plight, they again pounded on the oaken panel.

The footsteps approached the door and halted. Penny, her ear pressed to the panel, could hear the sound of breathing on the other side.

"Let us out!" she called. "We're locked in here!"

"Sh!" came the loud hiss.

"It must be Old Julia!" Penny whispered to Louise. "Do you suppose she'll have sense enough to help us?"

"I doubt it," Louise muttered, resigning herself to a long wait in the monk's study. "Maybe we can get across to her the idea that she should bring Father Benedict here."

"Listen, Julia," Penny began, speaking slowly and as clearly as she could. "We're locked in here and we need help. Can you bring your master?"

"No! No!" came the sharp answer.

"Then unlock the door," Penny urged.

"Key gone," the old woman mumbled.

"Can't you find it? Don't you know where your master keeps them?"

There was no answer, but the girls heard the old woman scurry away.

"Has she gone to find a key, or has she just gone?" Louise sighed. "Father Benedict probably still is in the basement with Winkey, so we can expect no help from that quarter."

Impatiently, Penny glanced at her wrist watch. Actually, they had been locked in the room less than twenty minutes, but it seemed three times that long.

"It's useless!" Louise said, seating herself by the fire again. "We're trapped here until Father Benedict gets around to letting us out!"

At the door, Penny's keen ears detected sound. Again the pad, pad of footsteps!

"Old Julia's coming back!" she exclaimed. "Maybe she's not as stupid as we thought!"

Anxiously the girls waited. To their great relief, they heard a key turn in the lock. Then, an inch at a time, the door was pushed open.

Old Julia, her eyes wild, and hair streaming down her face, stared blankly in at them.

"Thanks, Julia!" said Penny. She tried to touch the woman's hand in a gesture of friendship, only to have her shrink back.

"Why, we won't hurt you," Penny attempted to sooth her.

"Go!" the woman mumbled, her cracked lips quivering. "Go!"

_Seeing us here always seems to upset her, Penny thought._ Aloud she remarked: "Yes, we're leaving now. If Father Benedict wonders what became of us, I'm afraid he'll just have to guess."

The girls started toward the cloister with Old Julia following a step behind.

"Hurry! Hurry!" she muttered. "No time!"

"Oh, we have plenty of time, if that's what you mean," replied Penny, smiling at her in a friendly way. Suddenly she halted as the thought occurred to her that she might obtain useful information from the woman if only she phrased her questions skillfully.

"Julia, you must know everyone who lives here in the dormitory rooms," she began. "Do you often see a girl about my age?"

A strange light flickered for a moment in the old woman's watery gray eyes, then died. She merely stared at Penny.

"No soap!" commented Louise. "Let's get out of here."

Penny, however, was persistent.

"Julia, you must have seen her--a girl like me," she emphasized. "Does she sleep here?"

"Sleep--sleep--" the word seemingly had aroused an unpleasant chain of thought in the old woman's twisted mind.

"Where is the girl's room?" Penny probed.

Julia did not act as if she had heard the question. She was mumbling to herself, a look of horror upon her face.

"What's she saying?" Louise demanded, unable to catch a word.

Penny bent closer. Distinctly she heard the old woman mutter: "The canopied bed! In the chapel room--"

Then old Julia stiffened and she flattened herself against the wall of the passageway, her eyes wide with fear.

Directly ahead, in the doorway opening onto the cloister, stood Father Benedict.

CHAPTER
14
_AN ASSIGNMENT FOR PENNY_

Father Benedict's face was as expressionless as a marble statue, but his dark eyes smoldered with anger.

Ignoring Penny and Louise for the moment, he fixed the cringing Julia with stern gaze.

"Did I not order you to remain in the kitchen?" he demanded. His voice was low, almost purring. Nevertheless, the woman acted as if she had been lashed with a whip.

Mumbling unintelligibly, she scurried off down the covered passageway along the side of the cloister, and disappeared through another doorway.

"Please, it wasn't Julia's fault that she was here," said Penny, feeling sorry for the unfortunate woman. "Louise and I called for help and she came to assist us."

"Yes, we were locked in the study," added Louise. "If she hadn't come to our rescue, we would have been there yet."

"Do I understand you to say you were _locked_ in?" asked the monk, his shaggy eyebrows lifting in astonishment. "The door sticks sometimes."

"It was locked," interposed Penny quietly. "We tried several times to open it. Julia finally let us out with a key."

Having divulged this bit of information, she immediately regretted it. A shadow passed over the monk's countenance.

"A key?" he repeated. "How would Julia know--" Breaking off, he smiled and completed: "The locks here are very old and sadly in need of repair. I must have a locksmith in immediately."

Father Benedict fixed his gaze upon one of the twisted, weather-stained columns of the cloister, for the moment seeming to forget the girls. Becoming a little uncomfortable, they edged toward the exit.

"We'll be going now," said Penny to remind him of their presence. "That is, unless you'll permit us to witness the cult ceremony."

"The main hall has not yet been prepared," Father Benedict replied quickly. "We have postponed the ceremony until later tonight."

"Perhaps we could return then."

"It would be highly inadvisable." Father Benedict's deep frown plainly showed that he was becoming irritated. "The members of our sect are sensitive to visitors. I regret onlookers are not as yet welcome."

_That's telling me in a nice way to mind my own business_, thought Penny. Aloud she said: "I see. Well, later on, perhaps."

Politely, Father Benedict escorted the girls through the cloister. Penny noted that much of the dirt and debris had been swept away. A beautifully carved stone stairway, which she had failed to notice upon her previous visit, led up to a narrow balcony.

Observing that many doors opened from it, she inquired if the dormitories were above.

"They are," the monk replied in a brief tone which discouraged further questions.

"It's so still in here," remarked Louise as they walked on. "One never would dream many people are staying in the building."

"We lead a quiet life," the monk explained. "For the most part, my people spend their time reading or in meditation and prayer."

The three now had reached the front door, and Penny thought she detected an expression of relief upon Father Benedict's face as he opened it for them.

"By the way," she remarked, "was anything seriously wrong in the cellar?"

"Oh, no! Nothing at all! Merely a leaking pipe. A plumber will take care of it. Thank you, and good afternoon."

With no show of haste, but very firmly, the monk closed the door in their faces.

"Well, how do you like that!" Penny muttered. "I never received a smoother brush-off!"

Snow was melting fast and running in rivers down the brick walk as the girls sauntered toward the gate. Winkey was nowhere to be seen, but knowing he might be close by, they were careful not to discuss Father Benedict until they were well beyond the property boundaries.

"Well, I guess this puts an end to your visits here," remarked Louise as they walked toward the parked car. "Father Benedict seems determined not to let you witness one of the cult ceremonies."

"Which makes me all the more determined to see one!"

"I have a hunch he'll turn you away if you call at the monastery again. Why don't you forget the place, Penny?"

"I should say not! I have an idea--it just came to me!"

"I suppose you'll sneak back at night or something equally as dramatic," teased Louise.

Penny plucked an icicle from a roadside bush, nibbling at it thoughtfully as she replied: "Only as a last resort. No, I'll drop in at the newspaper office and get Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, to assign me to do a feature story on the ceremony tonight. If I officially represent the _Riverview Star_, Father Benedict can't so easily turn me away."

The girls had reached the car. Stowing their skiing equipment, they motored rapidly toward the city.

"What did you think of Old Julia?" Penny inquired as they neared Louise's home. "Especially her remark about the canopied bed in the chapel?"

"Whoever heard of a bed of any kind in a chapel?" Louise scoffed. "She's dizzy, that's all."

"From a map Mr. Eckenrod showed me, I know the chapel is just off the cloister above the crypt," Penny recalled, switching on the windshield wiper to clear the glass of melting snow. "I suppose it could have been converted into a bedroom."

"I don't think her remark meant a thing. She mumbles most of the time."

"True, but the thing I noticed was that she seemed so afraid of Father Benedict. Do you suppose he abuses her?"

"Oh, Penny! A man of his calling?"

"He's not a real monk. Apparently this cult is only an order that has been in existence a short time. Father Benedict doesn't impress me as a very religious man. Furthermore, all that crystal-glass-gazing business leads me to think he's more of a charlatan than anything else!"

"Do you think he runs the place to get money?"

"I'm wondering, that's all. We know he accepts very liberal contributions from his converts. Where does the money go?"

"If I were certain he locked us in that room today, I'd believe the worst!" Louise declared as the car stopped in front of the Sidell home. Opening the door to alight, she added: "He put up a good story though. I guess it must have been an accident."

Penny made no reply.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Louise bade her goodbye. "If you arrange to see one of the cult ceremonies, be sure to let me know."

The afternoon now was late. Penny drove to the _Riverview Star_ building. Girls who worked in the downstairs business office were leaving for the day, but upstairs the editorial staff was just swinging into action for a busy night.

At the city editor's desk a short wave radio blared routine police calls. Editor DeWitt, an eyeshade pulled low over his eyes, scowled as he rapidly scanned copy.

Seeing Penny, he looked up and smiled, which was the signal for her to explain the purpose of her call.

Going straight to the point, she asked to be assigned a feature story on the cult ceremony that night in the monastery.

"Think you can get it?" he demanded gruffly.

"Why not?"

"Two of our reporters already have failed. The high monkey-monk out there won't allow any of our men in the building."

"Then you'd like a story?"

"Sure. We're interested in what's going on out there." Mr. DeWitt slashed a page of corrected copy in half with his long scissors. He dropped one section onto the floor and the other into the copy basket. "Learn anything worth while out there today?"

"Nothing worthy of print. If you'll assign me to the story I'll go back tonight. I think I can get inside again."

"Okay, give me a ring if you run into anything interesting. Your father know you're going?"

"Well, I haven't told him yet."

"Be sure you do," said Mr. DeWitt, looking her straight in the eyes. "I don't want to find myself sitting behind the eight ball!"

"Oh, I'll let Dad know," Penny assured him hastily. "I'll do it now."

However, her father was in conference, so after waiting around the office a little while, she decided to talk the matter over with him when he came home for dinner.

In the elevator, leaving the office, Penny ran into Jerry Livingston. Hearing of the assignment, he looked a little worried.

"Think you ought to go out to the monastery alone at night?" he inquired.

"I don't see why not, Jerry."

"I've not met Father Benedict myself," Jerry said, "but one of our reporters who was out there yesterday, didn't like his appearance. I'll bet a cent your father refuses to let you go."

"I hope not," Penny said anxiously. "I'll put up a big argument."

"What time you leaving?" Jerry asked as the elevator let them out on the main floor.

"Early. Maybe around seven o'clock."

"Well, good luck," Jerry said. "I suppose it's all right, or DeWitt wouldn't have given you the assignment."

Parting company with the reporter, Penny stopped briefly at the Riverview Hotel to inquire if Mr. Ayling had returned from Chicago. He had not checked in.

"Queer he doesn't come after sending that telegram," she thought. "I wonder what's delaying him?"

Arriving home a few minutes later, Penny heard the sound of pounding as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weems was scraping carrots at the sink.

"Did you have a good time skiing?" the housekeeper inquired.

"Fair." Penny stripped off her mittens and hung them on a radiator. "Snow's melting fast today. What's that awful pounding?"

"Jake Cotton finally came. He's building the bookcases in your father's study."

"Oh, yes," recalled Penny. "I thought from the sound the place was being torn down!"

After removing her heavy ski suit and putting her skiing equipment away, the girl wandered into the study.

Jake Cotton, a short, wiry old man, was gathering up his tools preparatory to leaving. Boards of various length were strewn over the carpet.

"Well, reckon I'll call it a day," he remarked. "It'll take me all tomorrow to finish the job. That is, if I can arrange to get back."

"You have another job?" Penny inquired.

"I've been doing a little work for them folks that moved into the monastery," the carpenter explained. "The man that owns the place pays well, but he's mighty fussy. Wants the work done the minute he says!"

"I suppose a great deal should be done out there, the building is so old."

"It's a wreck!" Jake Cotton said, picking up his tool kit. "A dozen workmen couldn't put it in liveable shape in two weeks! They want such trivial things done too, while they let more important repairs wait."

"For instance?"

"Well, the first job the monks had me do was fix the old freight lift into the cellar!"

"I didn't know the building had one," said Penny in surprise. "Is it on the first floor?"

"In the old chapel room off the cloister," Jake explained. "Least, that's what I took it to be. They're using it for a bedroom now. I ask you, what would any sensible person want with a freight lift in a bedroom?"

"It does seem unusual. Why was it originally installed in the chapel?"

"I heard it was done when the building was built," Mr. Cotton told her. "Years ago, they had burial services in the chapel, and caskets were lowered to the crypt below."

"How does the lift operate?"

"It's just a section of flooring that lowers when the machinery is turned on," the carpenter explained. "With a carpet over the boards, you wouldn't know it was there."

"And for what purpose is it to be used now?"

Mr. Cotton had started for the doorway. Penny trailed him to the front porch, eager to learn more.

"I couldn't figure out what the new owners aim to do with the lift," the carpenter replied, pausing on the steps. "Reckon they'll use it to lower heavy luggage and maybe unwanted furniture into the basement for storage."

"Did you see the crypt?"

"Didn't get down there. The monk had his own man, a hunchback, oil up the machinery and put it in working order. I only repaired the flooring."

"So the room is used as a bedroom now?"

"Looked that way to me. Leastwise, I saw a big bed in there. One of them old fashioned contraptions with a lot of dust-catching draperies over it."

"Not a canopied bed!"

"Reckon it was," Mr. Cotton answered carelessly. "Well, see you tomorrow if I'm not called back to the monastery to do another rush job! So long!"

Before the startled Penny could ask another question, he hurried off down the darkening street.

CHAPTER
15
_FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW_

Jake Cotton's careless remark about the canopied bed at the monastery filled Penny with deep excitement.

"Perhaps Old Julia isn't as crazy as she seems!" she thought. "The place does have a canopied bed, and she may have been trying to tell me something about it!"

Now more than ever, Penny was determined to revisit the monastery that night. Many unanswered questions plagued her. Not only was she curious to witness a cult ceremony, but also she wished to learn the identity of the strange girl who lived on the premises. And she hoped to view the chapel room with the freight lift and if possible, to see the canopied bed of which Old Julia had prattled so unintelligibly.

Hastening into the house, Penny sought Mrs. Weems in the kitchen.

"Anything I can do to help with dinner?" she inquired.

The housekeeper, in the act of putting a kettle of potatoes on the fire to boil, eyed her with instant suspicion.

"And where do you plan to go when dinner is over, may I ask?" she inquired.

"Only out to the monastery."

"Again! You came from there not a half hour ago!"

"Oh, Mr. DeWitt assigned me to cover a cult meeting tonight," Penny assured her hastily.

"And your father approves?"

"Haven't seen him yet. He ought to be coming home any minute now."

"Your father telephoned he will be detained," Mrs. Weems explained. "I doubt he'll be home before nine o'clock. So the monastery expedition is out of the question!"

"Oh, Mrs. Weems!" Penny was aghast. "I promised Mr. DeWitt! He's depending on the story."

"That's neither here nor there," the housekeeper replied, though she softened a little. "I simply can't allow you to go to the monastery alone at night--"

"Oh, I'll start right away--just as soon as I can grab a bite of dinner," Penny broke in eagerly. "If Father Benedict refuses me permission to see the ceremony, then I can come back."

"You can, but will you?"

"Eventually, at least," Penny grinned. "Oh, Mrs. Weems, have a heart! Can't I telephone Dad somewhere?"

The housekeeper shook her head. "He's in an important meeting and can't be disturbed until it's over."

"But you will let me go? I won't be gone long."

"Oh, I suppose I'll have to give in," Mrs. Weems sighed. "I usually do. I'll hurry dinner along so you can get back early."

While the housekeeper fried pork chops, Penny set the table and prepared a salad. When the meal was ready she ate with a haste that shocked Mrs. Weems.

"I declare, your table manners become worse every day!" she protested. "Your mind isn't on what you are doing."

"It's on what I'm about to do!" Penny chuckled, getting up from the table. "I don't want any dessert tonight. See you later!"

Donning a heavy coat and slipping a flashlight into one of the deep pockets, she left the house.

The night was dark, for as yet there was no moon. Penny drove rapidly through Riverview and along the lonely road which led to the monastery.

Despite the speed of her car, she soon noted that another automobile was overtaking her. The girl pressed her foot a little more firmly on the gasoline pedal, but still the other car gained.

She was driving forty-five miles an hour when the big black car passed her traveling at least sixty. On the narrow road, Penny was crowded dangerously close to the ditch.

"The nerve of some people!" she muttered in disgust. "No wonder there are so many highway accidents!"

Penny caught only a fleeting glimpse of the black car's driver, a man hunched low over the steering wheel.

"Why, that looked like Winkey!" she thought. "And another man was with him in the front seat! I wonder if it was Father Benedict?"

Penny speeded up but found it impossible to keep the car in view. When she skidded at a curve, she wisely slowed down and abandoned the chase.

Approaching the monastery ten minutes later, the girl decided to park a short distance from the entrance gate. She left the car at the roadside beyond view of the gatehouse, and tramped on through the slush and snow.

Coming within sight of the ancient building, she paused.

The big gate stood ajar, and on the driveway stood the black automobile which had passed her car down the road.

"So it was Winkey!" she thought.

At the gateway Penny gazed carefully about the grounds. The hunchback was nowhere to be seen and the gatehouse remained deserted.

"So far, so good!" she encouraged herself. "Now if only Father Benedict doesn't refuse to let me into the house!"

Thinking over what she would say to the monk, Penny walked slowly up the driveway. Nearly all of the snow had melted, leaving large puddles to be avoided.

However, near where the black car had been parked, a section of yard was shadowed from the sun during the day. Here the damp snow remained in deep banks.

As Penny passed the car, she noticed a double set of men's footprints leading from the parked automobile toward the rear of the premises.

Also, she observed long marks which indicated the two men had dragged a heavy object over the snow.

"I suppose it was a sack of potatoes or supplies for the monastery," she mused. "It must be a job keeping this place in operation. Riverview stores never would make deliveries so far out."

Windows of the monastery were dark, though far inside the building dim lights could be seen. With a feeling akin to dread Penny went to the door and rapped with the brass knocker.

Now that she actually was embarked upon adventure, she rather regretted she had promised Mr. DeWitt a feature story. By night the monastery seemed more austere and unfriendly.

Minutes elapsed and no one came to answer the door. Impatiently, Penny clanged the knocker several times in rapid succession. Only then did she hear approaching footsteps.

At last the big door swung outward to reveal Father Benedict. His eyes narrowed with displeasure as he saw her.

"Well?" he inquired. Penny observed that he was a little breathless from having hastened.

"I don't suppose you expected to see me here again so soon!" she began with forced gaiety. "Do you mind if I witness the cult ceremony tonight?"

"We discussed that this afternoon. I am very sorry--" Father Benedict began to close the door.

"I want to write a little story about it for the newspaper," Penny went on, talking fast. "If you'll only--"

The door closed in her face. Distinctly she heard a key grate in the lock.

"Well, how do you like that?" Penny muttered angrily. "Who does he think he is, anyhow?"

She started away, only to pause and gaze thoughtfully back at the darkened windows. To return to the newspaper office without a story would be humiliating. A good reporter never failed.

"There must be some way to see that ceremony!" she reasoned. "Perhaps I can slip in through a rear door."

Penny circled the building, taking care to avoid snow patches where revealing footprints would be left behind. She crossed through the old church-yard with its toppled, weather-stained stones, passing close along the church wall.

Coming to a small arching door, she tried the knob.

"Locked!" she muttered in disgust. "One would think this place were a jail!"

Half way around the building Penny found another door which evidently opened into the kitchen. It too was locked.

"I'm out of luck!" she decided, losing heart.

As she turned away intending to return to her car, she noticed a window at shoulder level, opening from a kitchen wall. A ventilator screen had been inserted to permit free circulation of outside air.

Penny carefully studied the window. A crack between the screen and window frame encouraged her to hope that the mesh might be removed.

Obviously, the plan had disadvantages. In removing the screen, she might make too much noise and be detected.

Furthermore, a wide patch of snow separated her from the window. She could not reach the wall without leaving a trail of telltale footprints.

Then an idea flashed into Penny's mind. How easy it would be to make deceptive prints in the snow merely by walking _backwards_!

"If Father Benedict discovers my shoetracks, he'll think someone from inside the building crawled out the window!" she chuckled. "At least I hope he will!"

Now completely dedicated to the adventure, the girl carefully backed toward the window. She took each step slowly to make a distinct print.

Reaching the window, she tried the ventilator screen. To her delight, it folded like an accordian when she pushed one side against the edge of the window. Making no sound, she removed it.

Listening a moment to make certain no one was close by, Penny raised the window higher. Then on strong arms she swung herself up and over the ledge.

The girl found herself in a large kitchen lighted only by a smoldering log in a great cavern of a fireplace.

Rows of copper pans hung on the smoke-stained walls. In a huge black kettle, watery soup simmered over the fire.

Penny turned to close the window and stepped squarely on the tail of a drowsing cat.

"Ye-eow!" screeched the frightened animal.

Penny huddled against the wall, listening. Her heart sank as she heard heavy footsteps in the passageway. The howling cat had brought someone to investigate!

Frantically, the girl glanced about the room. Huge cupboards which rose from the floor to the ceiling offered the only possible hiding place in the otherwise barren kitchen.

Pulling open one of the doors, she saw an interior cluttered with greasy pans and dishes. With desperate haste, she tried the adjoining door. This cupboard was empty except for a few dusty newspapers.

Penny stepped inside, softly closing the door. Only then, as she heard someone enter the kitchen, did she realize that in her haste to hide, she had forgotten to close the window.

CHAPTER
16
_THE KITCHEN CUPBOARD_

Into the kitchen lumbered Old Julia. She picked up the whimpering cat and began to croon endearments.

Penny breathed easier. The next instant she became tense again as she heard another person enter the room.

"What was that noise, Julia?" a man demanded harshly.

Penny recognized Father Benedict's voice.

"Only the cat, Father."

"Why is the room so cold? Oh, I see! Against my orders you opened the window again!"

"No, I didn't!" Old Julia defended herself. "I hain't been near a door or window since you told me not to talk to nobody nor let 'em in. I don't talk to nobody--only Patsy, the cat. Nice Patsy!"

"You're a stupid old woman! What made the cat howl?"

"I dunno. She must've seen a mouse."

"Cats don't howl unless they are hurt! You opened the window!"

"No! No! I didn't!" the old woman cried. "Don't strike me! I'm telling you the truth."

Penny heard the monk walk to the window. Her heart skipped a beat when he said: "Perhaps you are, Julia! I can see footprints in the snow! Someone crawled out through this window! You helped that girl get away!"

"I didn't! I didn't!" whimpered Julia. "I dunno how the window got open."

The monk seemed to be talking to himself as he went on: "I knew that girl would make trouble the minute I set eyes on her! If it hadn't been for her interference, everything would have gone just as planned! Now she'll have to pay for her folly!"

For a moment Penny thought Father Benedict was speaking of her. Then it came to her that he must be referring to the dark-haired girl she had seen briefly on the day of her first visit to the monastery.

"This isn't the only time she's slipped out of here!" the monk went on angrily. "But it will be the last!"

Father Benedict rang a bell. While waiting for it to be answered, he slammed down the kitchen window.

Soon Winkey, the hunchback, appeared. "You called me, boss?" he inquired.

"I did," said the monk. "And kindly remember not to call me 'boss.' Father Benedict is a more respectful term."

"That's a laugh," rejoined Winkey rudely. "What did you call me for?"

"Look out the window and see for yourself."

"Footprints!"

"Going away from the monastery," Father Benedict added. "That girl has run off again! This time when she gets back, see that she is punished."

The command seemed to startle the gateman for he asked dubiously: "You don't mean--"

"I do." The monk's words dropped like chips of steel. "The usual punishment."

"But ain't it a little harsh for a girl? She's only a kid--"

"Only a kid!" Father Benedict's voice rose in mockery. "From the hour we came here she has been a thorn in my side. If it hadn't been for her interference, we would have been away from here yesterday!"

"Okay, if those are your orders. Are you sure the girl has skipped?"

"Certainly I am. I found the window open, and there are the footprints in the snow!"

"Maybe she won't be back."

"She will," Father Benedict said grimly. "You see, so long as we have her--"

He broke off to listen intently. From the direction of the cloister a silver bell had chimed.

"The signal for the processional!" Father Benedict exclaimed, interrupting himself. "I must go!"

In the doorway he apparently paused, for Penny heard him say to Julia:

"Start dishing up the soup ready to serve as soon as the ceremony is over! A bowl and four crackers to each person!"

"Is that all they're getting to eat?" Winkey inquired. "We're in for a lot of squawks!"

"You forget that the members of our sect have taken a vow of poverty and abstinence," retorted the monk with heavy sarcasm. "If there are any complaints, I know how to handle them."

"You sure do," agreed Winkey, his laughter crackling. "I'll hand you the gold plated medal for that!"

Voices of the two men died away, informing Penny that they had gone. As she huddled in the cramped quarters, she could hear Julia moving about the kitchen. The woman sighed heavily and once muttered: "Woe is me! Wisht I was dead, I do!"

Minutes elapsed and the girl became increasingly uncomfortable and impatient. Old Julia showed no inclination to leave the kitchen.

"I've got to get out of here or I'll miss the entire ceremony!" Penny told herself. "Well, here goes! If Julia screams, I'm a cooked goose!"

Opening the cupboard door a tiny crack, she peered out.

Old Julia had lighted candles. In their flickering light she could be seen with her back to Penny, stirring the soup. On the table beside her were ten wooden bowls.

"It's now or never!" the girl thought. "Julia may give me away, but I'll have to chance it!"

Opening the door wider, she moved noiselessly out and glided across the floor. A board creaked. But as Julia turned her head, Penny reached out and covered her mouth with her hand.

Seeing her, the old woman's eyes dilated with fear, but she could not speak.

"Don't try to scream! Don't say a word!" Penny warned. "I won't hurt you! I'm here to help you."

The old woman tried to break from the girl's grasp. Penny kept talking to her in a soothing tone until gradually she relaxed.

"Will you keep quiet if I release you?" she finally demanded.

The old woman's head bobbed up and down.

Penny removed her hand, expecting the worst. But Julia did not scream. Instead, she stared fixedly at the girl.

"Julia, I must see the ceremony, and Father Benedict isn't to know I am here," Penny whispered. "Will you keep my secret?"

Again Julia's head inclined, but the look of terror remained in her eyes.

"Go!" she whispered, pointing to the window. "Leave while there is time!"

"Not until I've seen the ceremony. Julia, I need a robe. Where can I find one?"

So stupidly did Julia stare at her that Penny was certain the woman did not understand. However, after a moment she shuffled to one of the storage cupboards where linen was kept. Returning with a white cotton robe, she placed it in the girl's hands.

Penny put the garment on over her coat, pulling the hood well down over her blond curls.

Then, with another whispered warning to Julia not to reveal her presence, she left the kitchen. The disguise gave her renewed confidence, for in the shadowy halls she felt that only at close range would anyone recognize her.

Three stone steps led up to the cloister. Approaching with great caution, Penny observed that it too had been lighted with candles.

In the center of the cloister near the old fountain, Father Benedict's crystal globe had been set up. On either side stood stately rows of tall candles.

Impressive as was the sight, Penny had no time to admire it, for a door had opened. Winkey came in, dragging a girl by the wrist.

With a shock Penny recognized her as the same girl she had seen while visiting the monastery with Mr. Ayling.

"And she's the same one Louise and I picked up in our car!" she thought.

The girl struggled to free herself from the hunchback's firm grasp.

"Let me go!" she cried, kicking at him. "Let me go!"

"Oh, no, you don't!" he taunted her. "This time you'll have to pay for sneaking out of the house and coming back!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the girl retorted. "I've not been out of this house tonight! If I could get away, I'd bring the police and have you arrested! You can't mistreat me! Let go my wrist!"

Before Winkey could answer, another door opened to admit Father Benedict. Walking straight toward the hunchback he exclaimed harshly:

"Fool! Don't bring her in here! The ceremony is starting! Lock her up and be quick about it!"

CHAPTER
17
_THE CULT CEREMONY_

As Penny watched from behind a pillar in the cloister, Winkey pulled the struggling girl through a doorway and out of sight.

Father Benedict then adjusted his long robe and rang a silver bell. With stately tread he retired to a position behind the crystal globe.

An instant later from the far side of the cloister, a door was flung open. A procession of ten persons in white robes moved slowly into the shadowy room.

As far as Penny could tell, all who participated were women, many of advanced age. Leaders of the strange procession carried banners embroidered in silver and gold symbols.

The white robed figures moved slowly along the passageway, and Penny saw that they would pass the pillar where she stood.

Fearing detection, she shifted position slightly to avoid being seen.

But as the mumbling, chanting group passed her, she was overcome with a sudden impulse to join the procession.

"If I can get up close, I'll be able to hear what is said!" she thought. "Maybe I'll learn the secret of Father Benedict's strange power over these people!"

As the procession passed the pillar, Penny attached herself to the rear. With bowed head, she followed the others who formed a semicircle about the fountain.

The monk began a chant in Latin which Penny could not understand. However, his gestures were eloquent, and despite herself, she was impressed.

Presently he spoke in English, quoting the White Lady of Sir Walter Scott's "The Monastery."

"Mortal warp and mortal woof
Cannot brook this charmed roof;
All that mortal art hath wrought
In our cell returns to naught.
The molten gold returns to clay,
The polish'd diamond melts away;
All is alter'd, all is flown,
Naught stands fast but truth alone.
Not for that thy quest give o'er;
Courage! prove thy chance once more."

Eloquently, the monk then praised the frugal life, assuring his listeners that those who gave of their treasure to the cult society would receive untold spiritual values.

"As you file past the fountain cast your jewels into the basin," he bade the group. "You will be rewarded three-fold."

Slowly the robed women circled the fountain. The one leading the procession dropped a bracelet. The woman following fumbled beneath her robe and reluctantly gave a cameo broach.

"It was the last gift of my dear departed husband," she whispered tearfully. "I do so dislike to part with it--"

"You shall have your reward," the monk assured her. "Later, in the crystal globe, you will see the face of your husband!"

"So that's how he rules them!" thought Penny. "He plays upon their emotions and then pretends to conjure up visions of departed relatives!"

Another woman stripped a diamond ring from her finger, and cast it into the bowl of the fountain. The one who followed her, stood empty handed.

"Where is your contribution?" demanded the monk.

"I have none, O Master! At the last ceremony, I gave all!"

"Those who have no gift for the celestial spirits receive no rewards," Father Benedict said sharply.

"Please--"

"Pass on!" ordered the monk.

Realization now came to Penny that in another moment she too would be expected to drop her contribution into the fountain. What could she give?

On her third finger the girl wore a silver colored ring with a red glass stone. She had won it several days before at a church party fish pond, and despite the fact that it obviously had been bought in a dime store, had kept it.

As Penny's turn came she removed the cheap ring and let it fall into the basin of the fountain. Keeping the hood well over her face, she mumbled in a disguised voice: "I give my precious ruby ring!"

"Blessings upon you, my good woman!" said the monk approvingly. "The celestial spirits will remember your generosity."

Father Benedict now led the procession to the refectory where supper was to be served.

The room was drafty and barren except for one long table and benches. Old Julia had set out the wooden bowls of soup, and crackers, thoughtfully remembering to set an extra one for Penny. No other food was in evidence.

"Soup again?" asked one of the cult members in bitter disappointment. "We are hungry!"

"We've had little more than soup since we came here!" exclaimed another old lady plaintively.

"Are you so soon forgetting your vows?" chided Father Benedict. "Material things have no true meaning."

Grumbling a little, the women sat down at the table and began to eat. Penny took an empty place near the door. She tasted the soup and nearly gagged.

Father Benedict did not join the group. After lingering a few minutes he quietly slipped away. This offered Penny an opportunity to leave without arousing the monk's suspicions.

"I must learn more about that girl who is locked up here somewhere!" she thought. "Perhaps I can help her escape!"

Still wearing the white robe, Penny started back to the cloister. The cult ceremony which she had witnessed greatly disturbed her.

"Father Benedict is taking unfair advantage of these people," she told herself. "He accepts their jewels and gives nothing in return. Furthermore, he is cruel!"

Voices in the cloister directly ahead warned the girl to proceed cautiously. Keeping close to the wall and holding her robe tightly about her, she crept closer to the fountain.

The candles had all been extinguished. However, Father Benedict and Winkey were there, working by the light of a lantern.

"Fish out the jewels and be quick about it!" the monk ordered his servant. "We must be finished before they're through in the refectory."

The hunchback scrambled down into the bowl of the fountain, and groped with his hands for the trinkets the cult members had thrown away.

"Did the old lady kick in with the sapphire tonight?" Winkey asked as he worked.

"No!" the monk answered. "She sent word that she was too sick to leave her room! I suspect that girl put her up to it!"

"You goin' to let her get by with it?"

"I'll talk with her later tonight," Father Benedict said. "If she doesn't come across by tomorrow, we'll find ways to persuade her."

"You been saying that ever since she came here! If you ask me, we won't never have any luck with her until we get rid of the girl! She's been a wrench in the machinery from the start."

"I'm afraid you are correct, Winkey," sighed the monk. "But I do so dislike violence. Well, if it must be, so be it. You assigned her to the room with the canopied bed?"

"I locked her in like you said." Winkey, having gathered all of the trinkets, scrambled out of the stone basin onto the tiled cloister floor.

"What have we here?" asked the monk eagerly.

Winkey spread the contributions on a handkerchief. Father Benedict held the lantern closer to inspect the articles.

"Junk! Trash!" he exclaimed. "Only the diamond has any value."

"How about this ring?" demanded Winkey, picking up Penny's dime store contribution.

"Glass!" In fury, the monk hurled the ring across the cloister.

Penny suppressed a giggle. But Father Benedict's next words sent a shiver down her spine.

"This settles it!" he said. "I'll talk to the old lady now! If she refuses to give up the sapphire, then you know what to do with the girl!"

"I'm waiting for the chance!" growled the hunchback. "Just say when!"

"Once the girl is where she can't influence the old lady, we'll have no trouble," the monk continued. "However, we must work fast. After tonight, I have a feeling we will do well to move our institution elsewhere."

"The newspapers are sending reporters around to ask a lot of questions," agreed Winkey. "I don't like it! If anyone should find out about the crypt--"

"Let me do the worrying," interrupted Father Benedict. "We'll get the sapphire and be away before anyone even sets foot inside the place."

"What about that Parker girl?"

"She's only a child!" the monk scoffed. "A very annoying, nosey one, I grant you."

Taking the lantern with them, Father Benedict and Winkey disappeared in the direction of the monk's study. Left in darkness, Penny debated her next action.

If only she could telephone her father or Mr. DeWitt at the _Star_ office! This, of course, was out of the question, for the ancient building obviously had no phone service.

"I might go for help," she reasoned, "but a full hour would be needed for me to reach Riverview and return with anyone. And what can I prove?"

Though Penny was convinced Father Benedict and Winkey were fleecing cult members, she knew the women voluntarily had given up their jewelery. In the event police tried to arrest Father Benedict, the cult members might rise to his defense.

"I'll have to have more evidence!" she decided. "The one person who should be able to tell me what goes on here is that girl who is locked in the chapel bedroom!"

Stealing across the dark cloister, Penny listened a moment at the passageway leading to the refectory. An undercurrent of conversation and the clatter of tin spoons told her that cult members had not yet finished the evening repast.

From the map Mr. Eckenrod had shown her, the girl knew the location of the chapel bedroom. Tiptoeing down a corridor opening from the cloister, she came to a massive oaken door.

"This must be the one," she decided.

Softly she tapped on the panel.

"Who is there?" called a startled voice. The words were so muffled, Penny barely could distinguish them.

"A friend," replied Penny.

Footsteps pattered across the room. "Help me get out!" the imprisoned girl pleaded.

Penny tried the door. As she had expected, it was locked.

"Where is the key?" she called through the panel. "If I can find it, I may be able to get you out of here."

"Speak louder!" the girl protested. "I can't hear you."

Penny dared raise her voice no higher. She realized that the heavy paneling deadened sound and made it impossible to carry on a satisfactory conversation.

"The key!" she called again. "Where is it?"

As she spoke the words, a board snapped directly behind her. Penny's heart jumped. Before she could turn to look over her shoulder, a bony hand reached out of the darkness and grasped her wrist.

CHAPTER
18
_ELEVEN BOWLS_

Smothering a scream, Penny twisted around to see that it was Old Julia who had seized her arm.

"Oh!" she gasped in relief. "I thought it was Winkey or Father Benedict!"

"You go now!" the old woman urged her. "_Please!_"

"I can't until I've helped whoever is locked in here," Penny replied, gently prying away Julia's fingers which were cutting into her flesh. "Tell me, where is the key?"

Old Julia shook her head in a stupid sort of way.

"The key to this door," Penny explained patiently. "Where is it kept?"

"Father Benedict," Julia mumbled. "No other."

"Then it's impossible to help the girl without bringing police!" Penny exclaimed. "I'll have to get out of here and drive to Riverview! But can I prove anything?"

Old Julia stared blankly at Penny as if not understanding a word. But she reached out, and taking hold of the girl's hand, pulled her along the corridor.

Believing that the servant meant to show her a quick means of exit from the building, Penny willingly followed.

However, Old Julia led her only a few yards before pausing beside another door. Opening it, she motioned for Penny to step inside.

The girl saw with some misgiving that Old Julia expected her to enter what appeared to be a rather large, empty storage closet.

"Oh, I don't want to hide," Penny explained thinking that the old woman had misunderstood. "I must leave here now."

"Inside!" bade Julia insistently. "You see! Talk!"

She gave Penny a little shove into the room and closed the door.

Only then did the girl realize that she barely had escaped detection. For, in the corridor, heavy footsteps now were heard. Standing motionless against the closet door, she recognized Father Benedict's voice as he spoke to Julia:

"What are you doing here?" he asked the servant harshly. "Have I not told you never to come into this section of the building?"

Julia's reply was inaudible. The monk's next remark warned Penny that she courted detection if she remained longer in the building.

"I have just come from the refectory," he said. "I counted the soup bowls. There were ten empty and one barely touched. _Who was the eleventh person in this household that was served tonight?_"

"Don't ask me," moaned Old Julia. "I dunno nothing."

"Sometimes," said the master coldly, "I am inclined to think you know far more than you let on. Get to the dishes now! Go!"

Evidently Father Benedict struck or kicked the woman, for Old Julia uttered a sharp cry of pain. Her sobs died away as she retreated down the corridor.