The Wishing Well

by Mildred A. Wirt

  CHAPTER 4 _A RECORD ON ROCK_

  "What'll we do?" Mrs. Breen murmured, gazing despairingly at her husband."Where will we get the money?"

  Penny stepped forward into Jay Franklin's range of vision. Observing herfor the first time, he politely doffed his hat, a courtesy he had notbestowed upon the Breens.

  "Mr. Franklin, have you a cheque book?" she inquired.

  "Yes, I have," he responded with alacrity.

  "Then I'll write a cheque for the eight dollars if that will besatisfactory," Penny offered. "The Breens are friends of mine."

  "That will settle the bill in full, Miss Parker."

  Whipping a fountain pen from his pocket, he offered it to her.

  "Penny, we can't allow you to assume our debts," Rhoda protested. "Pleasedon't--"

  "Now Rhoda, it's only a loan to tide us over for a few days," Mrs. Breeninterposed. "Ted will get a job and then we'll be able to pay it back."

  Penny wrote out the cheque, and cutting short the profuse thanks of theBreens, declared that she and Louise must return home at once.

  "Driving into Riverview?" Mr. Franklin inquired. "My car is in thegarage, and I'll appreciate a lift to town."

  "We'll be glad to take you, Mr. Franklin," Penny responded, but withoutenthusiasm.

  Enroute to Riverview he endeavored to make himself an agreeableconversationalist.

  "So the Breens are friends of yours?" he remarked casually.

  "Well, not exactly," Penny corrected. "I met Rhoda at school and visitedher for the first time today. I couldn't help feeling sorry for thefamily."

  "They're a no-good lot. The old man never works, and the boy either can'tor won't get a job."

  "Do you have many such families, Mr. Franklin?"

  "Oh, now and then. But I weed them out as fast as I can. One can't besoft and manage a tourist camp, you know."

  Penny smiled, thinking that no person ever would accuse Mr. Franklin ofbeing "soft." He had the reputation of ruthless devotion to his owninterests. Changing the subject, she remarked that Mrs. Marborough hadreturned to the city to take up residence at Rose Acres.

  "Is that so?" Mr. Franklin inquired, showing interest in the information."Will she recondition the house?"

  Penny replied that she had no knowledge of the widow's future plans.

  "No doubt Mrs. Marborough has returned to sell the property," Mr.Franklin said musingly. "I should like to buy that place if it goes for afair price. I could make money by remodeling it into a tourist home."

  "It would be a pity to turn such a lovely place into a roadside hotel,"Louise remarked disapprovingly. "Penny and I hope that someday it will berestored as it was in the old days."

  "There would be no profit in it as a residence," Mr. Franklin returned."The house is located on a main road though, and as a tourist hotel,should pay."

  Conversation languished, and a few minutes later, Penny dropped the manat his own home. Although she refrained from speaking of it to Louise,she neither liked nor trusted Jay Franklin. While it had been his rightto eject the Breens from the tourist camp for non-payment of rent, shefelt that he could have afforded to be more generous. She did not regretthe impulse which had caused her to settle the debt even though it meantthat she must deprive herself of a few luxuries.

  After leaving Louise at the Sidell house, Penny drove on home. Enteringthe living room, she greeted her father who had arrived from thenewspaper office only a moment before. A late edition of the Star lay onthe table, and she glanced carelessly at it, inquiring: "What's new,Dad?"

  "Nothing worthy of mention," Mr. Parker returned.

  Sinking down on the davenport, Penny scanned the front page. Immediatelyher attention was drawn to a brief item which appeared in aninconspicuous bottom corner.

  "Here's something!" she exclaimed. "Why, how strange!"

  "What is, Penny?"

  "It says in this story that a big rock has been found on the farm of CarlGleason! The stone bears writing thought to be of Elizabethan origin!"

  "Let me see that paper," Mr. Parker said, striding across the room. "Ididn't know any such story was used."

  With obvious displeasure, the editor read the brief item which Pennyindicated. Only twenty lines in length, it stated that a stone bearingboth Elizabethan and Indian carving had been found on the nearby farm.

  "I don't know how this item got past City Editor DeWitt," Mr. Parkerdeclared. "It has all the earmarks of a hoax! You didn't by chance writeit, Penny?"

  "I certainly did not."

  "It reads a little like a Jerry Livingston story," Mr. Parker said,glancing at the item a second time.

  Going to a telephone he called first the _Star_ office and then the homeof the reporter, Jerry Livingston. After talking with the young manseveral minutes, he finally hung up the receiver.

  "What did he say?" Penny asked curiously.

  "Jerry wrote the story, and says it came from a reliable source. He'scoming over here to talk to me about it."

  Within ten minutes the reporter arrived at the Parker home. Pennyloitered in the living room to hear the conversation. Jerry long had beena particular friend of hers and she hoped that her father would notreprimand him for any mistake he might have made.

  "Have a chair," Mr. Parker greeted the young man cordially. "Now tell mewhere you got hold of that story."

  "Straight from the farmer, Carl Gleason," Jerry responded. "The stone wasdug up on his farm early this morning."

  "Did you see it yourself?"

  "Not yet. It was hauled to the Museum of Natural Science. Thought I'ddrop around there on my way home and look it over."

  "I wish you would," requested the editor. "While the stone may be anauthentic one, I have a deep suspicion someone is trying to pull a fasttrick."

  "I'm sorry if I've made a boner, Chief."

  "Oh, I'm not blaming you," Mr. Parker assured him. "If the story is afake, it was up to DeWitt to question it at the desk. Better look at therock though, before you write any more about it."

  As Jerry arose to leave, Penny jumped up from her own chair.

  "I'd like to see that stone too!" she declared. "Jerry, do you mind if Igo along with you?"

  "Glad to have you," he said heartily.

  Before Penny could get her hat and coat, Mrs. Maud Weems, the Parkerhousekeeper, appeared in the doorway to announce dinner. She was a stout,pleasant woman of middle-age and had looked after Penny since Mrs.Parker's death many years before.

  "Penny, where are you going now?" she asked, her voice disclosing milddisapproval.

  "Only over to the museum."

  "You've not had your dinner."

  "Oh, yes, I have," Penny laughed. "I dined on chicken at the DorsetTourist Camp. I'll be home in an hour or so."

  Jerking coat and hat from the hall closet, she fled from the house beforeMrs. Weems could offer further objections. Jerry made a more ceremoniousdeparture, joining Penny on the front porch.

  At the curb stood the reporter's mud-splattered coupe. The interior wasonly slightly less dirty, and before getting in, Penny industriouslybrushed off the seat.

  "Tell me all about this interesting stone which was found at the Gleasonfarm," she commanded, as the car started down the street.

  "Nothing to tell except what was in the paper," Jerry shrugged. "The rockhas some writing on it, supposedly similar to early Elizabethan script.And there are a few Indian characters."

  "How could such a stone turn up at Riverview?"

  "Carl Gleason found it while he was plowing a field. Apparently, it hadbeen in the ground for many years."

  "I should think so if it bears Elizabethan writing!" Penny laughed. "Why,that would date it practically in Shakespeare's time!"

  "It's written in the style used by the earliest settlers of thiscountry," Jerry said defensively. "You know, before we had radios andautomobiles and things, this land of ours was occupied by Indians."

 
"Do tell!" Penny teased.

  "The natives camped all along the river, and there may have been an earlyEnglish settlement here. So it's perfectly possible that such a stonecould be found."

  "Anyway, I am curious to see it," Penny replied.

  The car drew up before a large stone building with Doric columns.Climbing a long series of steps to the front door, Penny and Jerryentered the museum through a turnstile.

  "I want to see the curator, Mr. Kaleman," the reporter remarked, turningtoward a private office near the entrance. "I'll be with you in aminute."

  While waiting, Penny wandered slowly about, inspecting the variousdisplay cases. She was admiring the huge skeleton of a dinosaur whenJerry returned, followed by an elderly man who wore spectacles. Thereporter introduced the curator, who began to talk enthusiastically ofthe ancient stone which had been delivered to the museum that afternoon.

  "I shall be very glad to show it to you," he said, leading the way down along corridor. "For the present, pending investigation, we have it storedin the basement."

  "What's the verdict?" Jerry inquired. "Do museum authorities consider thewriting authentic?"

  "I should not wish to be quoted," Mr. Kaleman prefaced his little speech."However, an initial inspection has led us to believe that the stonebears ancient writings. You understand that it will take exhaustive studybefore the museum would venture to state this as a fact."

  "The stone couldn't have been faked?" Penny asked thoughtfully.

  "Always that is a possibility," Mr. Kaleman acknowledged as he unlockedthe door of a basement room. "However, the stone has weathered evenly, itappears to have been buried many years, and there are other signs whichpoint to the authenticity of the writing."

  The curator switched on an electric light which disclosed a roomcluttered with miscellaneous objects. There were empty mummy cases, boxesof excelsior, and various stuffed animals. At the rear of the room was alarge rust colored stone which might have weighed a quarter of a ton.

  "Here it is," Mr. Kaleman declared, giving the rock an affectionate pat."Notice the uniform coloring throughout. And note the lettering chiseledon the surface. You will see that the grooves do not differ appreciablyfrom the remainder of the stone as would be the case if the letteringwere of recent date. It is my belief--don't quote me, of course--thatthis writing may open a new and fascinating page of history."

  Penny bent to inspect the crude writing. "'Here laeth Ananias'" she readslowly aloud. "Why, that might be a joke! Wasn't Ananias a dreadfulprevaricator?"

  "Ananias was a common name in the early days," Mr. Kaleman said,displeased by the remark. "Now on the underside of this stone which youcannot see, there appears part of a quaint message which begins: 'Soonafter you goe for Englande we came hither.'"

  "What does it mean?" questioned Jerry.

  "This is only my theory, you understand. I believe the message may havebeen written by an early settler and left for someone who had gone toEngland but expected to return. The writing breaks off, suggesting thatit may have been continued on another stone."

  "In that case, similar rocks may be found near here," Jerry saidthoughtfully.

  "It is an interesting possibility. On the underside, this stone alsocontains a number of Indian characters, no doubt added at a later date.So far we have not been able to decipher them."

  "Just why does the stone have historical value?" Penny interposed.

  "Because there never was any proof that English colonists settled in thispart of the state," Mr. Kaleman explained. "If we could prove such werethe case, our contribution to history would be a vital one."

  Penny and Jerry asked many other questions, and finally left the museum.Both had been impressed not only with the huge stone but by the curator'ssincere manner.

  "Mr. Kaleman certainly believes the writing is genuine," Penny declaredthoughtfully. "All the same, anyone knows a carved rock can be made tolook very ancient. And that name Ananias makes me wonder."

  "The Chief may be right about it being a fake," Jerry returned. "But ifit is, who planted the stone on Gleason's farm? And who would go to somuch unnecessary work just to play a joke?"

  Frowning, the reporter started to cross the street just as an automobilebearing Texas license plates went past, close to the curb. As Jerryleaped backwards to safety, the automobile halted. Two men occupied thefront seat, and the driver, a well-dressed man of fifty, leaned from thewindow.

  "Excuse me, sir," he said, addressing Jerry, "we're trying to locate aboy named Ted Wiegand. He and his sister may be living with a family bythe name of Breen. Could you tell me how to find them?"

  "Sorry, but I can't," Jerry answered. "I never heard either of thenames."

  "Why, I know both Ted and Rhoda Wiegand," Penny interposed quickly."They're living at the Dorset Tourist Camp."

  "How do we get there?" the driver of the Texas car inquired.

  Jerry provided the requested information. Thanking him, the stranger andhis companion drove on down the street.

  "I wonder who they can be?" Penny speculated, staring after the car. "Andwhy did they come all the way from Texas to see Rhoda and Ted?"

  "Friends of yours?" Jerry asked carelessly.

  "I like Rhoda very much. Ted seems to be a rather questionable character.I wonder--"

  "You wonder what?" the reporter prompted, helping Penny into the parkedautomobile.

  "It just came to me, Jerry!" she answered gravely. "Those men may beofficers from Texas sent here to arrest Ted for something he's done! Inever meant to set them on his trail, but I may be responsible for hisarrest!"