The Wishing Well

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by Mildred A. Wirt


  CHAPTER 15 _OLD BOTTLES_

  Penny's startling appearance rather than her words made the deepestimpression upon Louise. The girl's shoes and stockings were wet, herclothing was smeared with green slime, and strings of moss clung to herhair.

  "You look like Father Neptune emerging from the briny deep," shechuckled.

  "I'm freezing to death," Penny chattered. "Come on, we're going home!"

  Louise hauled up the silken ladder from the well. Squeezing out thewater, she compressed it into the carrying case.

  "What were you saying about a discovery?" she inquired belatedly.

  "Oh, nothing of consequence," Penny answered, pounding her hands togetherto restore circulation. "Merely an opening in the side of the well. Itprobably leads into a tunnel."

  "Penny! Are you sure?"

  "I'm not sure of anything except that I'm going home!" Penny repliedcrossly.

  She started across the lawn with her chum hurrying after her.

  "Oh, Penny, I'm terribly sorry," Louise said contritely. "I know you hadan awful time down in the well. But it wasn't my fault those two menarrived just when they did."

  "Who were they?" Penny asked, mollified by the apology. "From theirvoices I took them to be Mr. Coaten and his friend."

  "That's who they were. But, I can't imagine why they came to see Mrs.Marborough. Anyway, they didn't get into the house."

  "Lou, I heard those men talking while I was down in the well," Pennyrevealed. "I'm sure they're dishonest. They want Ted and Rhoda to signsomething over to them."

  "But Rhoda said she and her brother have no property."

  "I know," Penny frowned. "I can't make head nor tail of the situation.I'm too miserable to think about anything now."

  Pausing beside a tree, she removed one of her shoes. After pouring alittle water from it, she replaced it and went through a similarprocedure with the other shoe.

  "Please tell me what else you learned while in the well," Louise pleaded."Haven't I been punished enough?"

  Her good humor restored, Penny grinned amiably. "To tell you the truth,Lou, I'm not sure whether I found anything or not."

  "But you said--"

  "I know. Just as I reached the top of the well I noticed a section ofbrick wall which seemed to be cracked in the exact shape of a rectangle."

  "Was that all?" Louise asked in disappointment.

  "I didn't even take time to examine the place. I felt so disgusted,"Penny resumed. "However, I believe that if one were able to remove thoseloose bricks, an opening might be found behind them."

  "Where something may be hidden?"

  "It's possible."

  "How could one remove the bricks without hiring a workman?" Louise askedafter a moment.

  "If they are as loose as I think they are, I might be able to get themout myself. Not tonight though."

  Penny felt in no mood to discuss future possibilities or even to considerthem. Already cold, the misty air added to her physical discomfort.

  "Better get a hot shower and go to bed," Louise advised as they finallyreached the Parker home. "We'll talk things over in the morning."

  Not desiring to attract attention to herself, Penny entered the house bya side door. To her discomfiture, Mrs. Weems, who chanced to be getting adrink in the kitchen, saw the disheveled clothing.

  "Why, Penny Parker!" she exclaimed. "What have you done to yourself?"

  "Nothing," Penny mumbled. "I'm just a little wet. I've been down in awell."

  "There are times when your jokes don't seem at all funny," thehousekeeper said sternly. "How did you ruin your clothes?"

  "That's the truth, Mrs. Weems. I was down in a well and I stepped offinto the water--"

  "Penny, you can't expect me to believe such a tall story. Now tell meexactly what _did_ happen."

  "Would it seem more reasonable if I said that I stumbled and fell into aditch?"

  "I rather thought something of the sort happened," Mrs. Weems declared."How did the accident occur?"

  "It didn't," Penny maintained plaintively.

  Escaping upstairs before the housekeeper could question her further, shetook a hot shower and went to bed. She could hear a murmur of voices inthe living room below, and knew that Mrs. Weems was discussing her"behavior" with her father.

  "Sometimes grownups are so unreasonable," she sighed, snuggling into thecovers. "You tell them the truth and what they really want is a nicelogical whopper!"

  Penny slept soundly and did not awaken until the Sunday morning sun washigh in the heavens. Sitting up in bed, she moved her armsexperimentally. They were very sore and stiff. She swung her feet to thefloor and groaned with pain.

  "Guess I can't take it any more," she muttered. "I must be getting soft,or else it's old age sneaking up on me!"

  Torturing herself with a limbering exercise, Penny dressed and wentdownstairs. Mrs. Weems had gone to church while Mr. Parker had submergedhimself in fifty-eight pages of Sunday paper. Detouring around the livingroom, Penny went to the kitchen to prepare herself a belated breakfast.She was picking at the nuts of a fruit salad found in the ice box whenher father appeared in the doorway.

  "Penny--" he began sternly.

  "Where was I last night?" she interrupted. "I've said before, and nowrepeat--in a well! A nice deep one with water in it."

  "When you're ready to tell me the real story, I shall listen," Mr. Parkersaid quietly. "Until that time, I must deprive you of your weeklyallowance."

  "Oh, Dad!" Penny wailed. "You know I'm stony broke! I won't be able todrive my car or even buy a hot dog!"

  "That is your misfortune. Mrs. Weems says I have been entirely tooindulgent with you, and I am inclined to agree with her. I've seldomchecked your comings or goings, but in the future I shall expect you totell me your plans when you leave the house at night."

  Having delivered his ultimatum, Mr. Parker quietly withdrew.

  Penny had lost her appetite for breakfast. Feeling much abused she bangedout the kitchen door into the yard. Her first act was to inspect thegasoline tanks of both Leaping Lena and the maroon car. As she hadfeared, the combined fuel supply did not equal three gallons.

  "There's just about fifty-five miles between me and misery," shereflected grimly. "I wouldn't dare siphon gas out of Dad's car or ask forcredit at a filling station either!"

  Wandering around to the front porch, she sat down on the steps. One ofher high school boy friends pedalled past on his bicycle, calling acheery greeting. Penny barely responded.

  Presently a milk wagon clattered to a stop in front of the house. Thedriver came up the walk with his rack of milk bottles. Penny eyed himspeculatively.

  "We have a lot of old bottles in the basement," she greeted him. "Doesyour company pay for them?"

  "Sorry," he declined. "We use only our own stamped bottles. There's nodeposit charge. Customers are expected to return them without rebate."

  The driver left a quart of milk on the back doorstep of the Parker home.In walking to his wagon, he paused beside Penny, remarking:

  "Maybe you could sell your old bottles to a second-hand dealer. I saw oneon the next street about five minutes ago."

  "Where?" Penny demanded, jumping to her feet.

  "He was on Fulton Avenue when I drove past."

  Thanking the driver, Penny ran as fast as her stiff limbs would permit tothe next street corner. Far up the avenue she saw a battered old car ofthe second-hand man. Hurrying on, she reached the automobile just as itsowner came from a house carrying an armful of corded newspapers.

  "Excuse me," she called eagerly, "do you buy old bottles?"

  The man turned toward her, doffing his derby hat.

  "Good morning, Miss," he said. "I buy newspapers, old furniture, rubbertires, copper, brass, or gold, but not bottles."

  Penny scarcely heard the discouraging information for she was staring atthe man as if his appearance fascinated her. For a moment she coul
d notthink where she had seen him before. And then suddenly she remembered.

  "Why, I saw you at Mrs. Marborough's place!" she exclaimed. "You're theone person who has been inside the house! I want you to tell me all aboutit."

 

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