CHAPTER 8
PSYCHIC SIGNS
As Penny and Mrs. Weems waited, the seamstress went to another room, returning with a stamped, slit envelope.
“Notice the postmark,” she requested, thrusting the letter into Penny’s hand.
“It was mailed from New York,” the girl observed.
“I mean the hour at which the envelope was stamped by the postmaster.”
“I make it 11:30 P.M. June fifteenth,” Penny read aloud. “Does the time and date have special significance?”
“Indeed, it does,” the seamstress replied impressively. “You tell them, Pa.”
“It happened three nights ago,” began Mr. Hodges. “Ma worked late stitchin’ up some playsuits for Mrs. Hudson’s little girl. Afterwards we had bread and milk like we always do, and then we went to bed.”
“At the time, I said to Pa that something queer was going to happen,” broke in the seamstress. “I could feel it in my bones. It was as if something was hovering over us.”
“A feeling of impending trouble?” questioned Penny.
“Nothing like that,” said Mr. Hodges.
“No, it was as if one almost could feel a foreign presence in the room,” Mrs. Hodges declared, lowering her voice. “A supernatural being.”
“Surely you don’t believe in ghosts…?” Penny began, but the seamstress did not hear. Unheeding, she resumed:
“Pa rubbed my back to ease the pain I get from working too long at the machine. Then we went to bed. Neither of us had gone to sleep when suddenly we heard it!”
“Six sharp raps on the outside bedroom wall,” supplied Mr. Hodges. “It was like this.” He demonstrated on the table.
“We both heard it,” added Mrs. Hodges. “It scared me nearly out of my wits.”
“Possibly it was someone at the door,” suggested Penny.
“No, it wasn’t that. Pa got up and went to see.”
“Could it have been a tree bough brushing against the wall?”
“It wasn’t that,” said Mr. Hodges. “The maple is too far off to strike our bedroom.”
“There’s only one explanation,” declared the seamstress with conviction. “It was a psychic sign—the first.”
“I don’t believe in such things myself,” announced Penny. “Surely there must be another explanation.”
“That’s what I told Jenny,” nodded Mr. Hodges. “But since the letter came, doggoned if I don’t think maybe she’s right.”
“What has the letter to do with it?” inquired Mrs. Weems.
The seamstress pointed to the postmark on the envelope.
“The hour at which we heard the strange tappings was eleven-thirty! Pa looked at the clock. And it was three days ago, June fifteenth.”
“Corresponding to the marking on this envelope,” commented Penny. “That is a coincidence.”
Mrs. Hodges shook her head impatiently.
“You surely don’t think it just happened by accident?” she asked. “It must have been intended as a sign—an omen.”
“What did the letter say?” Penny inquired, without answering Mrs. Hodges’ question. She knew that her true opinion would not please the woman.
“It wasn’t rightly a letter,” the seamstress returned. “The envelope contained six silver dollars fitted into a stiff piece of cardboard.”
“We figured it was another sign,” contributed Mr. Hodges. “Six raps on the wall—six dollars.”
“I wish some ghost would come and pound all night long on my bedroom door,” remarked Penny lightly.
“Penelope, you shouldn’t speak so disrespectfully,”Mrs. Weems reproved in a mild voice.
“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to,” said Penny, composing her face. “What else has happened of a supernatural nature?”
“Why, nothing yet,” Mrs. Hodges admitted. “But Pa and I have had a feeling as if something important were about to take place. And now Maud inherits six thousand dollars!”
“There was nothing psychic about that,” said Mrs. Weems. “Cousin David had no close relatives so he left the money to me.”
The seamstress shook her head, and an ethereal light shone in her eyes.
“Night before last when I went to bed I was thinking that I wished with all my heart something nice would happen to you, Maud. Now it’s come to pass!”
Even Mrs. Weems was somewhat startled by the seamstress’ calm assumption that her thoughts had been responsible for the inheritance.
“Don’t you see,” Mrs. Hodges resumed patiently. “It must mean that I have great psychic powers. I confess I am rather frightened.”
Penny arose and began to button her raincoat.
“Excuse me for saying it,” she remarked, “but if I were you, Mrs. Hodges, I’d spend the six dollars and forget the entire affair. Someone must have played a joke on you!”
“A joke!” The seamstress was offended. “People don’t give away money as a joke.”
“No, these days they squeeze the eagles until they holler,” chuckled Mr. Hodges.
“The letter was postmarked New York City,” went on his wife. “We don’t know a soul there. Oh, no one ever can make me believe that it was done as a joke. The letter was mailed at exactly the hour we heard the six raps!”
“And there wasn’t a sign of anyone near the house,” added Mr. Hodges.
“Well, at least you’re six dollars ahead,” said Penny. “Shall we go, Mrs. Weems? It’s after midnight.”
The seamstress walked to the door with the callers.
“I’ll get busy tomorrow on those new dresses,” she promised Mrs. Weems. “Drop in again whenever you can. And you, too, Penelope.”
Driving home through the rain, Penny stole a quick glance at the housekeeper who seemed unusually quiet.
“Do you suppose Jenny could be right?” Mrs. Weems presently ventured. “I mean about Cousin David and the inheritance?”
“Of course not!” laughed Penny. “Why, your cousin died a long while before Mrs. Hodges discovered that she was psychic. It’s all the bunk!”
“I wish I really knew.”
“Why, Mrs. Weems!” Penny prepared to launch into a violent argument. “I never heard of such nonsense! How could Mrs. Hodges have psychic powers? Everyone realizes that communication with the spirit world is impossible!”
“You are entitled to your opinion, Penny, but others may differ with you. Who can know about The Life Beyond? Isn’t it in the realm of possibility that Mrs. Hodges may have had a message from Cousin David?”
“She didn’t speak of it.”
“Not in words, Penny. But those strange rappings, the arrival of the letter—it was all very strange and unexplainable.”
“I’ll admit it was queer, Mrs. Weems. However, I’ll never agree that there’s anything supernatural connected with it.”
“You close your mind to things you do not wish to believe,” the housekeeper reproved. “What can any of us know of the spirit world?”
Penny gazed at Mrs. Weems in alarm. She realized that the seamstress’ story had deeply impressed her.
“I’ll stake my knowledge against Mrs. Hodges’ any old day,” she declared lightly. “I met one ghost-maker—Osandra—remember him?”
“Why remind me of that man, Penny?” asked the housekeeper wearily.
“Because you once paid him good money for the privilege of attending his séances. You were convinced he was in communication with the world beyond. He proved to be an outrageous fraud.”
“I was taken in by him as were many other persons,”Mrs. Weems acknowledged. “Mrs. Hodges’ case is different. We have been friends for ten years. She would not misrepresent the facts.”
“No, Mrs. Hodges is honest. I believe that the money was sent to her. But not by a ghost!”
“Let’s not discuss it,” said Mrs. Weems with finality. “I never did enjoy an argument.”
Penny lapsed into silence and a moment later the car swung into the Parker driveway. The housekeeper hurried in
to the house, leaving the girl to close the garage doors.
Penny snapped the padlock shut. Unmindful of the rain, she stood for a moment, staring into the night. Nothing had gone exactly right that day, and her disagreement with Mrs. Weems, minor though it was, bothered her.
“There’s more to this psychic business than appears on the surface,” she thought grimly. “A great deal more! Maybe I am stubborn and opinionated. But I know one thing! No trickster is going to take advantage of the Hodges or of Mrs. Weems either—not if I can prevent it.”
CHAPTER 9
MRS. WEEMS’ INHERITANCE
The clock chimed seven-thirty the next morning as Penny came downstairs. She dropped a kiss on her father’s forehead and slid into a chair at the opposite side of the breakfast table.
“Good morning, Daddykins,” she greeted him cheerfully. “Any news in the old scandal sheet?”
Mr. Parker lowered the newspaper.
“Please don’t call me Daddykins,” he requested. “You know I hate it. Here’s something which may interest you. Your friends the Kohls were robbed last night.”
“You’re eight hours late,” grinned Penny, reaching for the front page. “I was there.”
“I suppose you lifted the pearls and the diamond bracelet on your way to the theatre.”
“No,” said Penny, rapidly scanning the story which Jerry had written, “but I think I may have seen the man who did do it.”
She then told her father of having observed a stranger note the license number of the Kohl car, and mentioned the events which had followed.
“You may have been mistaken about what the man wrote down,” commented her father.
“That’s possible, but he was staring straight at the car.”
“I doubt if the incident had any connection with the burglary, Penny. With the Motor Vehicle Department closed, he would have had no means of quickly learning who the Kohls were or where they lived.”
“Couldn’t he have recognized them?”
“In that case he would have no need for the license number. You didn’t see the man note down the plates of other cars?”
“No, but he may have done it before I noticed him standing by the theatre.”
Turning idly through the morning paper, Penny’s attention was drawn to another news story. Reading it rapidly, she thrust the page into her father’s hand.
“Dad, look at this! There were two other burglaries last night! Apartment houses on Drexel Boulevard and Fenmore Street were entered.”
“H-m, interesting. The Kohls occupy an apartment also. That rather suggests that the same thief ransacked the three places.”
“And it says here that the families were away for the evening!” Penny resumed with increasing excitement. “I’ll bet a cent they were at the theatre! Oh, Dad, that man in gray must have been the one who did it!”
“If all the persons you suspect of crime were arrested, our jails couldn’t hold them,” remarked Mr. Parker calmly. “Eat your breakfast, Penny, before it gets cold.”
Mrs. Weems entered through the kitchen door, bearing reenforcements of hot waffles and crisp bacon. Her appearance reminded Penny to launch into a highly entertaining account of all that had transpired at the Hodges’ the previous night.
“Penny!” protested the housekeeper. “You promised Mrs. Hodges to say nothing about the letter.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t promise,” corrected Penny. “I was careful to say that I couldn’t tell what I didn’t know. Years ago Dad taught me that a good reporter never agrees to accept a confidence. Isn’t that so, Dad?”
“A wise reporter never ties his own hands,” replied Mr. Parker. “If he promises, and then obtains the same story from another source, he’s morally bound not to use it. His paper may be scooped by the opposition.”
“You two are a pair,” sighed Mrs. Weems. “Scoops and front page stories are all either of you think about. I declare, it distresses me to realize how Penny may be trained after I leave.”
“The way to solve that problem is not to leave,” said Penny. “You know we can’t get along without you.”
Mrs. Weems shook her head.
“It cuts me almost in two to leave,” she declared sadly, “but my mind’s made up. Mrs. Hodges says I am doing the right thing.”
“And I suppose a ghost advised her,” muttered Penny.
Mr. Parker glanced sternly at his daughter and she subsided into silence. But not for long. Soon she was trying to reopen the subject of the mysterious letter received by the Hodges. For a reason she could not understand, her father was loath to discuss it.
“Come, Penny,” he said. “If we’re having that game of tennis this morning, it’s time we start.”
En route to the park, the publisher explained why he had not chosen to express an opinion in the housekeeper’s presence.
“I quite agree with you that Mrs. Hodges has no psychic powers, Penny. She’s been the victim of a hoax. However, Mrs. Weems is intensely loyal to her friend, and any disparaging remarks made by us will only serve to antagonize her.”
“I’ll try to be more careful, Dad. But it’s so silly!”
Monday morning found Penny busy once more with her duties at the society desk. No new information had developed regarding the Kohl burglary, and she did not have time to accompany Mrs. Weems who went frequently to the Hodges’ cottage.
Secretly Penny held an opinion that the housekeeper’s inheritance might be the work of a prankster. Therefore, upon returning from the office one afternoon and learning that the money actually had been delivered, she was very glad she had kept her thoughts to herself.
“The lawyer came this morning and had me sign a paper,” Mrs. Weems revealed to the Parkers. “Then he turned the money over to me—six thousand dollars.”
“I hope the cheque is good,” remarked Penny.
“It was. I had the lawyer accompany me to the bank. They gave me the money without asking a single question. I have it here.”
“You have six thousand dollars cash in the house!”
“Yes, I had the cashier give it to me in hundred dollar bills.”
“Do you consider it safe to keep such a large sum?”Mr. Parker inquired mildly. “I should advise returning it to the bank, or better still, why not invest it in sound securities?”
Mrs. Weems shook her head. “It gives me a nice rich feeling to have the cash. I’ve hidden it in a good place.”
“Where?” demanded Penny.
“I won’t tell,” laughed Mrs. Weems.
Again later in the evening, Mr. Parker tried without success to convince the housekeeper that she should return the money to a bank. Never one to force his opinions upon another, he then dropped the subject.
“When will you be leaving us, Mrs. Weems?” he inquired.
“Whenever you can spare me. Now that I have the money, I should like to leave within ten days or two weeks.”
“Since we can’t persuade you to remain, I’ll try to find someone to take your place,” Mr. Parker promised.
Both he and Penny were gloomy at the prospect of replacing the housekeeper. Not only would they miss Mrs. Weems but they honestly believed that she would never be happy without two incorrigibles and a home to manage.
“Dad,” Penny ventured when they were alone, “just supposing that Mrs. Weems’ money should mysteriously disappear—”
“Don’t allow your mind to dwell on that idea,” cut in her father sternly. “We’ll play fair.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do it,” said Penny hastily. “I was only joking. But if something should happen to the money, it would solve all our problems.”
“Mrs. Weems has earned her vacation. Even though it will be hard to lose her, we mustn’t stand in her way.”
“I guess you’re right,” sighed Penny.
The following day Miss Hilderman resumed her duties at the Star, and Penny once more found herself a person of leisure. To her annoyance, Mrs. Weems insisted that she spend many hours in the k
itchen, learning how to bake pies and cakes. A particularly distasteful lesson came to an end only when Penny, with brilliant inspiration, remembered that the housekeeper had an appointment with the seamstress.
“Dear me, I had forgotten it!” exclaimed Mrs. Weems. “Yes, I must try on my new dresses!”
“I’ll drive you over,” offered Penny.
Not in recent days had the girl called upon the Hodges. As she and Mrs. Weems alighted from the car, they both noticed freshly ironed curtains at the windows. Mr. Hodges was pounding dust from a carpet on the line.
“Housecleaning?” inquired Penny, pausing to chat with the old man.
“Yes, Jenny’s got me hard at it,” he grinned. “She’s been tearin’ the house upside down gettin’ ready for the new roomer.”
“Oh, have you taken one?”
Penny was surprised, knowing that in past years the Hodges had been too proud to rent rooms.
“There’s a young feller moving in today,” Mr. Hodges said, picking up the carpet beater. “Go on inside. Jenny’ll tell you about it.”
Penny and Mrs. Weems entered the cottage where the seamstress was running a dust mop over the floors. She was somewhat dismayed to see the housekeeper.
“Oh, Maud, I’ve been so busy I didn’t get your dresses ready to be tried on.”
“It doesn’t matter,” replied Mrs. Weems. “What’s this about a new roomer?”
“I always said I wouldn’t have one cluttering up the place. But this young man is different. His coming here—well, I interpret it as another sign.”
“A sign of what?” inquired Penny with her usual directness.
“Well, it seemed as if I had a direct message from the spirit world to take him into our home. He came here last night. Instead of knocking in the usual way, he rapped six times in succession!”
“Probably he was the one who sent the letter,” said Penny alertly.
“Oh, no! He didn’t know anything about it. I asked him.”
“What is his name, Mrs. Hodges?”
“Al Gepper. He’s such a nice young man and he talks so refined. I am letting him have the entire floor upstairs.”
“That should bring you a nice income,” remarked Mrs. Weems.
“I am asking only two dollars a week,” admitted the seamstress. “He said he couldn’t pay more than that.”
The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels Page 33