The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

“How did you happen to be in Corbin, Dad?” asked Penny curiously.

  “You might know—I was looking for you. Isn’t that my usual occupation?”

  “You’re not provoked at me, Dad?”

  “No, of course not,” the publisher answered warmly. “You’ve all done fine work tonight. This is the biggest story we’ve run into in over a year! We’ll score a beat on the rival papers.”

  “Then don’t you think Jerry and Salt have earned a raise?” suggested Penny.

  “Yes,” agreed her father absently, “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  “And you might tack on another dollar to my allowance, Dad. I’ll also have a small bill to present. There will be several dollars for gasoline, lunches going and coming from Corbin, two ruined dresses, a pair of torn silk stockings, and—”

  “That’s enough,” broke in Mr. Parker with a laugh. “If you keep on listing your expenses, I’ll be broke. You turned out to be an expensive reporter.”

  “It was worth it, wasn’t it?” Penny demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

  Her father agreed heartily. “It certainly was, Penny. The Riverview Star obtained a smashing story to scoop all the other newspapers, and I’ve got my elusive daughter back again safe and sound.”

  Penny moved closer to her father. She grasped the lapels of his coat in her slender fingers and tipped her weary but still lovely face toward him.

  “Dad, will you promise me one thing?”

  “That depends on what you are after,” Mr. Parker told her gravely.

  “Whenever the Riverview Star has a baffling mystery to be run down to earth, will you promise to call in your ace sleuth?”

  “And who would that be?” demanded Mr. Parker with a puzzled frown. Then as Penny laughed gaily, he also started to grin. “So you are the ace sleuth? I guess I was a little slow in understanding. But you seem to be right. This is the third mystery you’ve solved. Maybe we will use you on the next mystery.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” said Penny. “I just hope I won’t have to wait too long for the next mystery to come along.”

  BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR

  CHAPTER 1

  TROUBLE FOR MR. PARKER

  “Watch me coming down the mountain, Mrs. Weems! This one is a honey! An open christiana turn with no brakes dragging!”

  Penny Parker, clad in a new black and red snowsuit, twisted her agile young body sideways, causing the small rug upon which she stood to skip across the polished floor of the living room. She wriggled her slim hips again, and it slipped in the opposite direction toward Mrs. Weems who was watching from the kitchen doorway.

  “Coming down the mountain, my eye!” exclaimed the housekeeper, laughing despite herself. “You’ll be coming down on your head if you don’t stop those antics. I declare, you’ve acted like a crazy person ever since your father rashly agreed to take you to Pine Top for the skiing.”

  “I have to break in my new suit and limber up my muscles somehow,” said Penny defensively. “One can’t practice outdoors when there’s no snow. Now watch this one, Mrs. Weems. It’s called a telemark.”

  “You’ll reduce that rug to shreds before you’re through,” sighed the housekeeper. “Can’t you think of anything else to do?”

  “Yes,” agreed Penny cheerfully, “but it wouldn’t be half as much fun. How do you like my suit?” She darted across the room to preen before the full length mirror.

  A red-billed cap pulled at a jaunty angle over her blond curls, Penny made a striking figure in the well tailored suit of dark wool. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of youth and it was easy for her to smile. She was an only child, the daughter of Anthony Parker, editor and publisher of the Riverview Star, and her mother had died when she was very young.

  “It looks like a good, practical suit,” conceded the housekeeper.

  Penny made a wry face. “Is that the best you can say for it? Louise Sidell and I shopped all over Riverview to get the snappiest number out, and then you call it practical.”

  “Oh, you know you look cute in it,” laughed Mrs. Weems. “So what’s the use of telling you?”

  Before Penny could reply the telephone rang and the housekeeper went to answer it. She returned to the living room a moment later to say that Penny’s father was in need of free taxi service home from the office.

  “Tell him I’ll be down after him in two shakes of a kitten’s tail!” Penny called, making for the stairway.

  She took the steps two at a time and had climbed halfway out of the snowsuit by the time she reached the bedroom. A well aimed kick landed the garment on the bed, and then because it was very new and very choice she took time to straighten it out. Seizing a dress blindly from the closet, she wriggled into it and ran downstairs again.

  “Some more skiing equipment may come while I’m gone,” she shouted to Mrs. Weems who was in the kitchen. “I bought a new pair of skis, a couple of poles, three different kinds of wax and a pair of red mittens.”

  “Why didn’t you order the store sent out and be done with it?” responded the housekeeper dryly.

  Penny pulled on her heavy coat and hurried to the garage where two cars stood side by side. One was a shining black sedan of the latest model, the other, a battered, unwashed vehicle whose reputation was as discouraging as its appearance. “Leaping Lena,” as Penny called her car, had an annoying habit of running up repair bills, and then repaying its long suffering owner by refusing to start on cold winter days.

  “Lena, you get to stay in your cozy nest this time,”Penny remarked, climbing into her father’s sedan. “Dad can’t stand your rattle and bounce.”

  The powerful engine started with a blast. While Mrs. Weems watched anxiously from the kitchen window, Penny shot the car out backwards, wheeling it around the curve of the driveway with speed and ease. She liked to handle her father’s automobile, and since he did not enjoy driving, she frequently called at the newspaper office to take him home.

  The Star building occupied a block in the downtown section of Riverview. Penny parked the car beside the loading dock at the rear, and took an elevator to the editorial rooms. Nearly all of the desks were deserted at this late hour of the afternoon. But Jerry Livingston, one of the best reporters on the paper, was still pecking out copy on a noisy typewriter.

  “Hi, Penny!” he observed, grinning as she brushed past his desk. “Have you caught any more witch dolls?”

  “Not for the front page,” she flung back at him. “My newspaper career is likely to remain in a state ofstatus quo for the next two weeks. Dad and I are heading for Pine Top to dazzle the natives with our particular brand of skiing. Don’t you envy us?”

  “I certainly would, if you were going.”

  “If!” exclaimed Penny indignantly. “Of course we’re going! We leave Thursday by plane. Dad needs a vacation and this time I know he won’t try to wiggle out of it at the last minute.”

  “Well, I hope not,” replied Jerry in a skeptical voice. “Your father needs a good rest, Penny. But I have a sneaking notion you’re in for a disappointment again.”

  “What makes you say that, Jerry? Dad promised me faithfully—”

  “Sure, I know,” he nodded, “but there have been developments.”

  “An important story?”

  “No, it’s more serious than that. But you talk with him. I may have the wrong slant on the situation.”

  Not without misgiving, Penny went on to her father’s private office and tapped on the door.

  “Come in,” he called in a gruff voice, and as she entered, waved her into a chair. “You arrived a little sooner than I expected, Penny. Mind waiting a few minutes?”

  “Not at all.”

  Studying her father’s lean, tired-looking face, Penny decided that something was wrong. He seemed unusually worried and nervous.

  “A hard day, Dad?” she asked.

  Mr. Parker finished straightening a sheaf of papers before he glanced up.

  “Yes, I hadn’t intended to tell you until la
ter, but I may as well. I’m afraid our trip is off—at least as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Oh, Dad!”

  “It’s a big disappointment, Penny. The truth is, I’m in a spot of trouble.”

  “Isn’t that the usual condition of a newspaper publisher?”

  “Yes,” he smiled, “but there are different degrees of trouble, and this is the worst possible. The Star has been sued for libel, a matter of fifty odd thousand.”

  “Fifty thousand!” gasped Penny. “But of course you’ll win the suit!”

  “I’m not at all sure of it.” Anthony Parker spoke grimly. “My lawyer tells me that Harvey Maxwell has a strong case against the paper.”

  “Harvey Maxwell?” repeated Penny thoughtfully. “Isn’t he the man who owns the Riverview Hotel?”

  “Yes, and a chain of other hotels and lodges throughout the country. Harvey Maxwell is a rather well known sportsman. He lives lavishly, travels a great deal, and in general is a hard, shrewd business man.”

  “He’s made a large amount of money from his hotels, hasn’t he?”

  “Maxwell acquired a fortune from some source, but I’ve always had a doubt that it came from the hotel business.”

  “Why is he suing the Star for libel, Dad?”

  “Early this fall, while I was out of town for a day DeWitt let a story slip through which should have been killed. It was an interview with a football player named Bill Morcrum who was quoted as saying that he had been approached by Maxwell who offered him a bribe to throw an important game.”

  “What would be the reason behind that?”

  “Maxwell is thought by those in the know to have a finger in nearly every dishonest sports scheme ever pulled off in this town. He places heavy wagers, and seldom comes out on the losing end. But the story never should have been published.”

  “It was true though?”

  “I’m satisfied it was,” replied Mr. Parker. “However, it always is dangerous to make insinuations against a man.”

  “Can’t the story be proven? I should think with the football player’s testimony you would have a good case.”

  “That’s the trouble, Penny. This boy, Bill Morcrum, now claims he never made any such accusation against Maxwell. He says the reporter misquoted him and twisted his statements.”

  “Who covered the story, Dad?”

  “A man named Glower, a very reliable reporter. He swears he made no mistake, and I am inclined to believe him.”

  “Then why did the football player change his story?”

  “I have no proof, but it’s a fairly shrewd guess that he was approached by Maxwell a second time. Either he was threatened or offered a bribe which was large enough to sway him.”

  “With both Maxwell and the football player standing together, it does rather put you on the spot,”Penny acknowledged. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’ll fight the case, of course, but unless we can prove that our story was accurate, we’re almost sure to lose. I’ve asked Bill Morcrum to come to my office this afternoon, and he promised he would. He’s overdue now.”

  Anthony Parker glanced at his watch and scowled. Getting up from the swivel chair he began to pace to and fro across the room.

  A buzzer on his desk gave three sharp, staccato signals.

  “Morcrum must be here now!” the editor exclaimed in relief. “I’ll want to see him alone.”

  Penny arose to leave. As she went out the doorway she met the receptionist, accompanied by an awkward, oversized youth who shuffled his feet in walking. He grinned at her in a sheepish way and entered the private office.

  While Penny waited, she entertained herself by reading all the comic strips she could find in the out-of-town exchange papers. In the adjoining room she could hear the rhythmical thumping, clicking sound of the Star’s teletype machines. She wandered aimlessly into the room to read the copy just as the machines typed it out, a story from Washington, one from Chicago, another from Los Angeles. It was fascinating to watch the print appear like magic upon the long rolls of copy paper.

  Presently, the teletype attendant, young Billy Stevens, came dashing into the room.

  “Oh, hello, Miss Parker,” he said with a bashful grin.

  “Hello, Billy,” Penny answered cordially. She studied the keyboard of the sending teletype machine, running her fingers over the letters. “I wish I could work this thing,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to it if you can run a typewriter,” answered Billy. “Just a minute, I’ll throw it off the line on to the test position. Then you can try it.”

  At first Penny’s copy was badly garbled, but under Billy’s enthusiastic coaching she was soon doing accurate work.

  “Say, this is fun!” she declared. “I’m coming in again one of these days and practice. Thanks a lot, Billy!”

  As Penny went back into the editorial room she saw the Morcrum boy leaving her father’s office. His head was downcast and his face was flushed to the ears. Obviously, he had not had a comfortable time with Mr. Parker.

  The moment the boy had vanished, Penny hurried into her father’s office to learn the outcome of the interview.

  “No luck,” reported Mr. Parker, reaching for his hat and overcoat.

  “He wouldn’t change his story?”

  “No. He seemed like a fairly decent sort of boy, but he kept insisting he had been misquoted. I couldn’t get anywhere with him. He’ll testify for Maxwell when the case comes to trial.”

  Mr. Parker put on his overcoat and hat, and opened the door for Penny. As they left the building he told her more about the interview.

  “I asked the boy point-blank if he hadn’t been hired by Maxwell. Naturally, he denied it, but he acted rather alarmed. Oh, I’m satisfied he’s either been bought off or threatened.”

  “When does the case come to trial?”

  “The last of next month, unless we gain a delay.”

  “That gives you quite a bit of time. Don’t you think you could take two weeks off anyhow, Dad? We both planned upon having such a wonderful time at Mrs. Downey’s place.”

  Penny and her father had been invited to spend the Christmas holidays at Pine Top, a winter resort which attracted many Riverview persons. They especially had looked forward to the trip since they were to have been the house guests of Mrs. Christopher Downey, an old friend of Mr. Parker’s who operated a skiing lodge on the slopes of the mountain overlooking Silver Valley.

  “There’s not much chance of my getting away,”Mr. Parker replied regretfully. “That is, not unless important evidence falls into my hands, or I am able to make a deal with Maxwell.”

  “A deal?”

  “If he would make reasonable demands I might be willing to settle out of court.”

  Penny gazed at her father in blank amazement.

  “And admit you were in the wrong when you’re certain you weren’t?”

  “Any good general will make a strategic retreat if the situation calls for it. It might be more sensible to settle out of court than to lose the case. Maxwell has me in a tight place and knows it.”

  “Then why don’t you see him? He might be fairly reasonable.”

  “I suppose I could stop at the Riverview Hotel on our way home,” Mr. Parker said, frowning thoughtfully. “There’s an outside chance Maxwell may come to terms. Drop me off there, Penny.”

  While the car threaded its way in and out of dense traffic, the editor remained in a deep study. Penny had never seen him look so worried. Her own disappointment was keen, yet she realized that far more than a vacation trip was at stake. Fifty thousand dollars represented a large sum of money! If Maxwell won his suit it might even mean the loss of the Riverview Star.

  Sensing his daughter’s alarm, Mr. Parker reached out to pat her knee.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’re not licked yet, Penny! And if there’s any way to arrange it, you shall have your trip to Pine Top just as we planned.”

  CHAPTER 2

  A RIVAL REPORTERr />
  Penny presently edged the sedan into a parking space across the street from the Riverview Hotel. As she switched off the ignition her father said:

  “Better come along with me and wait in the lobby. It’s cold out here.”

  Penny followed her father into the building. The hotel was an elegant one with many services available for guests. She noticed a florist shop, a candy store, a dry cleaning establishment, and even a small brokerage office opening off the lobby.

  “Oh, yes,” said Mr. Parker as Penny called his attention to the brokerage. “Maxwell hasn’t overlooked anything. The hotel has a special leased wire which I’ve been told gives him a direct connection with his other places.”

  Walking over to the desk, Mr. Parker mentioned his name and asked the clerk if he might see Harvey Maxwell.

  “Mr. Maxwell is not here,” replied the man with an insolent air.

  “When will he be at the hotel?”

  “Mr. Maxwell has left the city on business. He does not expect to return until the end of next month.”

  Mr. Parker could not hide his annoyance.

  “Let me have his address then,” he said in a resigned voice. “I’ll write him.”

  The clerk shook his head. “I have been instructed not to give you Mr. Maxwell’s address. If you wish to deal with him you will have to see his lawyer, Gorman S. Railey.”

  “So Maxwell was expecting me to come here to make a deal with him?” demanded Mr. Parker. “Well, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll make a deal all right, but it will be in court. Good day!”

  Angrily, the newspaper man strode from the lobby. Penny hurried to keep pace with him.

  “That settles it,” he said tersely as they climbed into the sedan again. “This libel suit will be a fight to the finish. And maybe my finish at that!”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m sure you’ll win. But it’s a pity all this had to come up just when you had planned a fine vacation. Mrs. Downey will be disappointed, too.”

  “Yes, she will, Penny. And there’s Mrs. Weems to be thought about. I promised her a two weeks’ trip while we were gone.”

  They drove in silence for a few blocks. As the car passed the Sidell residence, Penny’s father said thoughtfully: