The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  “Something hidden during the Civil War?” inquired Louise breathlessly.

  “No, my dear, an object secreted by my sister, Virginia. Since you girls already have learned so much I will tell you all. Perhaps you have heard of the Marborough pearls?”

  Penny and Louise shook their heads.

  “I forget that you are so very young,” Mrs. Marborough said. “Your mothers would remember. At any rate, the necklace was handed down in our family for many generations, always to the daughter who was the first to marry. Virginia, my younger sister, dreamed and hoped that the pearls would go to her. Naturally, I shared a similar desire. As it came about, I was the first of the family to marry.”

  “Then you received the necklace?” Louise commented.

  “It should have gone to me, but my sister was determined I never should win such a victory over her. In a fit of anger she hid the pearls. Father tried to force her to tell what she had done with them, but she was very headstrong. She ran away from home, married a scamp, and sailed with him to South America. She died there less than two years after my own marriage.”

  “What became of the pearls?” Penny asked eagerly.

  “Our family believed that she took the necklace with her. For many years we assumed that Virginia’s worthless husband had obtained possession of it. He denied any knowledge of the pearls, but we never accepted his story as true. Then, a few weeks ago, a letter came from South America. It had been written by Virginia’s husband shortly before his death.”

  “He confessed to the theft of the necklace?” Louise asked, trying to speed the story.

  “No, indeed. He merely enclosed a letter written by Virginia years before. It was addressed to me, and had never been sent, because her husband deliberately withheld it. Just selfish and cantankerous, that man was! The letter told where the pearls had been hidden. I imagine that Virginia’s husband had planned to gain possession of them someday, but fate defeated him. So on his death bed he sent me the original letter which I should have received forty years earlier.”

  “Where were the pearls hidden?” Penny questioned, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You haven’t found them yet?”

  “No, and I doubt that I ever shall,” Mrs. Marborough sighed. “Virginia’s letter was not very definite. She begged my forgiveness for having caused so much trouble, and said that she had hidden the necklace near the old wishing well.”

  “Didn’t she tell you where?” Louise asked in disappointment.

  “There were several words which had been blotted with ink. I suspect Virginia’s husband did it to prevent anyone but himself from learning the hiding place. Then when he finally sent the letter to me, he may have forgotten what he had done. That’s only my guess, of course. As the letter reads, my only clue is that the pearls were hidden near the wishing well.”

  “That explains why you were removing the flagstones the other night,” Louise remarked.

  “Yes, I’ve searched everywhere I can think of except in the old tunnel. When you girls went through it tonight, did you notice anything unusual?”

  “No hiding place,” Penny replied. “Of course we weren’t looking for anything of the sort. If we could explore the passageway by daylight—”

  “Can’t we help you find the pearls, Mrs. Marborough?”Louise interrupted. “It would be such fun searching for them.”

  “I’ll be very happy to have your help,” the old lady said, smiling. “Upon one condition. You must tell no one. Already I am the laughing stock of Riverview and if this latest story should get around everyone would talk.”

  Penny and Louise promptly assured her that they would tell no one about the pearls.

  “Another thing—” Mrs. Marborough hesitated and then went on. “I suppose you understand now why I never invited you into the house. It wasn’t that I meant to be inhospitable.”

  “Because the place isn’t fixed up?” Louise came to her aid. “Why, Penny and I would have thought nothing of it. This is a cozy kitchen with a cheerful fire. I think it’s nice.”

  “I probably shan’t be here long. My purpose in returning to Riverview was to find the pearls. I’ve nearly made up my mind that they are lost forever.”

  “Oh, don’t say that!” Penny cried. “Tomorrow, with your permission, Louise and I will explore the tunnel. We may have luck.”

  “I shall be very glad to have your help, my dear.”Again Mrs. Marborough groped for words and finished awkwardly: “Please, I beg of you, don’t tell anyone what you have seen tonight, particularly the barren state of this house.”

  “We understand,” Penny said gravely.

  The fire had burned low. Mindful that they must be home early, the girls bade Mrs. Marborough goodbye, promising to return the following day. Once outside the mansion, they paused beside a tree so that Penny might remove the heavy coveralls which she still wore over her frock.

  “What a night!” she murmured happily.

  “For once, Penny, one of your crazy adventures turned out beautifully,” Louise praised. “We’ll have a wonderful time searching for that necklace! She’s certainly queer though.”

  “Mrs. Marborough?”

  “Yes, imagine being so sensitive about how the interior of her house looks. Who would expect it to be fixed up nicely after standing empty so many years?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Penny asked. She hopped grotesquely on one foot as she extricated the other from the coveralls.

  “Forgetting what?” Louise demanded, puzzled.

  “Remember that first day we peeped into the house through the window?”

  “Why, yes, what about it?”

  “Your memory isn’t very good, Louise. Don’t you remember the sheet-draped furniture we saw?”

  “That’s right! I had forgotten. What became of it?”

  “If I had just one guess, I’d say—Mr. Butterworth.”

  “Who is he, Penny?”

  “A second-hand dealer who buys old furniture, newspapers, rubber tires—everything except bottles.”

  “Not that funny looking man we saw enter this house the other day!”

  “The same. Louise, it’s my guess that Mrs. Marborough sold all of her valuable antiques—probably for a fraction of their true worth.”

  “How foolish of her. Why would she do that?”

  “Don’t you understand?” Penny asked patiently. “There can be but one explanation. Mrs. Marborough isn’t wealthy any more. She’s living in dire poverty and trying to keep people from learning the truth.”

  CHAPTER 18

  SIGNBOARD INDIANS

  The realization that in all likelihood Mrs. Marborough had sold her valuable antiques to the second-hand dealer was disconcerting to Louise as well as Penny. They did not believe that Mr. Butterworth would pay a fractional part of the furniture’s true value, and apparently the widow’s only reason for parting with her treasures was an urgent need for money.

  “Of course, I may have guessed wrong about it,”Penny admitted as she and Louise started toward home. “Just to check up, I’ll call at Mr. Butterworth’s shop tomorrow and see what I can learn.”

  “I wish we dared tell someone about the condition of the house,” Louise said thoughtfully. “Why, if Mrs. Marborough is in need, Mother would help.”

  “So would Mrs. Weems,” added Penny. “But we gave our promise not to reveal anything we saw. For the time-being, our hands are tied.”

  The events of the night had made the girls eager to return again to Rose Acres to search for the missing pearl necklace. They agreed that immediately after school the next afternoon they would call upon Mr. Butterworth and then keep their appointment with the widow.

  “Remember, we mustn’t tell anyone what we have learned,” Penny warned as she parted company with her chum. “Not even Rhoda.”

  Throughout the following day, both girls were so excited that they found it all but impossible to study. When the closing bell finally brought release, they bolted from the school build
ing before any of their classmates could detain them.

  “I have the address of Mr. Butterworth’s shop,”Penny said, consulting a paper. “It’s not far from here.”

  The building proved to be a typical second-hand store with old tables and chairs piled in the windows along with cut glass and bric-a-brac. Entering, the girls wandered about until a woman asked them if they were searching for anything in particular.

  “We’re interested in furniture,” Penny explained. “Old pieces—antiques if we can find them.”

  “Come into the back room,” the woman invited. “Mr. Butterworth bought a number of pieces just a few days ago. From one of Riverview’s best homes too.”

  “Where was that?” inquired Louise.

  “I didn’t hear him mention the name. It was from a house that has been closed many years. The owner returned only a short time ago and is closing out everything.”

  The girls did not doubt that the furniture under discussion had been obtained from Rose Acres. They were certain of it as they viewed rosewood and mahogany chairs, imported mirrors, porcelain ornaments, massive four-poster beds, sofas with damaged coverings, and handsome chests and bureaus. Penny ventured to price a few of the items. The amount asked was so low that she knew Mr. Butterworth had paid an extremely small sum to the widow. Making an excuse for not purchasing, she and Louise escaped to the street.

  “There’s no question about it,” Penny declared as they set off for Rose Acres. “Mrs. Marborough sold her beautiful things to Mr. Butterworth.”

  “He can’t appreciate their value or he never would offer them at such low prices,” Louise added. “Anyone who buys those things will obtain wonderful bargains.”

  Penny nodded soberly. Lost in thought, she had little to say until the girls drew near Rose Acres.

  “Don’t let on to Mrs. Marborough that we’ve learned about the furniture,” she warned. “It’s really none of our affair if she sells her belongings.”

  The widow had been expecting the girls and had everything in readiness to explore the tunnel. While they searched it from end to end, she waited hopefully at the wishing well.

  “Have you found anything?” she called several times.

  “Not yet,” Penny would reply patiently.

  She and Louise laboriously examined every inch of the bricked passageway but with fading hope. The walls were firm, giving no indication that anything ever had been hidden behind or within them. To have excavated the hard-packed dirt flooring was a task not to be considered at the moment.

  “There’s nothing here,” Penny whispered to her chum. “I doubt that the pearls ever were hidden in this tunnel.”

  “Mrs. Marborough will be terribly disappointed,”Louise replied in an undertone. “What shall we tell her?”

  “We can pretend to keep on searching. Maybe if we prowl about this place for a few days, we’ll have luck.”

  “The pearls were hidden near the wishing well. We have that much to go on.”

  “They may have disappeared years ago,” Penny contributed pessimistically. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel very hopeful about ever finding them.”

  Leaving the tunnel by means of the easier exit, the girls emerged into the basement. They were preparing to climb the stairs to the first floor when Mrs. Marborough’s voice reached their ears almost as plainly as if she were in the cellar.

  “Louise! Penny! Are you all right?”

  Startled by the clearness of the call, the girls paused on the stairway.

  “Why, her voice came through as plainly as if she were in this room!” Louise exclaimed. “You don’t suppose Mrs. Marborough has ventured into the passageway?”

  Thoroughly alarmed, the girls raced up the stairway and out of the house into the yard. To their relief they saw Mrs. Marborough standing by the wishing well, peering anxiously down.

  “Oh, here you are!” she murmured as they ran up. “I was beginning to get worried. The last time I called you did not answer.”

  “We were down in the basement,” Penny explained. “Mrs. Marborough, your voice came through to us as plainly as if you were in the passage.”

  The disclosure did not seem to surprise the widow, for she smiled and said:

  “I’ve always known that sound carried from the well to the house. In fact, in past years I found it amusing to listen to conversations carried on by persons who never dreamed that their words were overheard.”

  “Then that explains why so many wishes which were made here at the well came true!” Penny cried. “You were the Good Fairy behind it all.”

  “Oh, now and then, if it pleased my fancy, I arranged to have a wish granted,” Mrs. Marborough acknowledged, smiling grimly. “That was in the days when I had money—” she broke off and ended—“more than I have now, I mean.”

  “Mrs. Marborough, you must have heard those wishes we made the day of your return to Riverview,”Penny said after a moment. “Were you responsible for sending a basket of food to Rhoda’s people?”

  “I am afraid I was.”

  “And did you grant Rhoda’s second wish?” Louise asked quickly. “Did you have anything to do with getting her brother, Ted, a job?”

  “Judge Harlan is an old friend of mine,” Mrs. Marborough explained. “I merely wrote him a note suggesting that he would do me a favor by helping the boy if he found him worthy.”

  Although the widow’s admission cleared up much of the mystery which had surrounded the old wishing well, Louise and Penny were dumbfounded, nevertheless. Never once had anyone in Riverview connected Mrs. Marborough with a particularly charitable deed.

  As if guessing their thoughts, the woman said sharply:

  “Now mind, I’ll not have you telling this around the town! I’m through with all such silly business, and I don’t propose to have busybodies discuss whether or not I am addle-brained!”

  “Why, Mrs. Marborough!” protested Louise. “It was a kind, generous thing to do.”

  “Generous, fiddlesticks! I did it because it pleased me and for no other reason. Let’s not talk about it any more.”

  Mrs. Marborough questioned the girls concerning their exploration of the tunnel. Her disappointment over the failure to find the pearls was keen but she tried not to show it.

  “I knew it was a fool’s errand coming to Riverview to look for that stupid necklace!” she declared. “Like as not, it never was hidden at Rose Acres, my sister’s letter to the contrary. I intend to forget about the whole affair.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don’t give up so soon,”Penny pleaded. “Louise and I have only started to search. We may find it yet.”

  “You’ve been very nice,” the widow said, smiling almost in a friendly way. “I’ll remember it always when I am far away.”

  “Then you intend to leave Riverview?” Louise asked in disappointment.

  “I must sell Rose Acres. I have no other course open.”

  “Not to Jay Franklin, I hope!” Penny exclaimed.

  “I have no intention of dealing with him if anyone else will make an offer. So far I have found no other person who is interested in the property.”

  Drawing a deep sigh, Mrs. Marborough arose. Without much enthusiasm she invited the girls to come with her into the house, but they tactfully declined.

  “We’ll come again tomorrow, if you don’t mind,”Penny said as she and Louise turned to leave.

  “Do,” replied Mrs. Marborough. “We might make a final search for the pearls.”

  Enroute to Riverview, the girls talked over the situation and agreed that the prospect of finding the necklace was a slim one. They had grown to like the eccentric widow and were sorry that she had decided to move away from the city of her birth.

  “I am sure if she had money she would remain here,” Louise declared. “And it will nearly kill her if she is forced to deal with Jay Franklin. How she does dislike him!”

  Parting with her chum in the business section of Riverview, Penny went directly to the Star office. Her fat
her was ready to start home.

  “Anything new about Jay Franklin and those record stones he hopes to sell to the museum?” Penny inquired absently as the automobile sped along the congested streets.

  “Nothing you haven’t heard,” Mr. Parker replied. “Franklin expects to make the sale and probably will. The museum people have put themselves on record as saying that the stones bear authentic writing.”

  “Then it appears that your original hunch was incorrect,”Penny observed. “Too bad you played down the story in the Star.”

  “I may have made a mistake. All the same, I am pinning my hopes on the expert from Brimwell College.”

  “What expert, Dad?”

  “I guess I neglected to tell you. The Star hired Professor Anjus from Brimwell to inspect the stones. His opinion doesn’t coincide with that of the museum experts. He has pronounced them fakes.”

  “If the experts can’t agree, then how can one prove anything?”

  “It is something of a tangle,” Mr. Parker smiled. “I turned that tool you obtained from Crocker over to Professor Anjus. He expects to make exhaustive tests and to report to me within a few days.”

  The car had reached the outskirts of Riverview. As it passed along streets which were sparsely dotted with houses, Penny called attention to several large billboards which disfigured the landscape.

  “Look, Dad!” she directed, pointing to a particularly colorful poster. “An Indian show is coming to town next week!”

  Mr. Parker turned his head to gaze at the billboard. To Penny’s amazement, he suddenly slammed on the brake, bringing the car to a lurching halt at the side of the road.

  “That’s it!” he cried, his eyes on the huge sign. “The motive! I couldn’t figure it out, but now I have the clue I need! Penny, we’ll put a crimp in Jay Franklin’s little game, or my name isn’t Anthony Parker!”

  CHAPTER 19

  PUBLICITY PLUS

  Completely mystified by her father’s remarks, Penny waited for him to explain.

  “Don’t you get it?” he asked, waving his hand toward the big signboard. “The finding of those stones bearing Elizabethan and Indian writing was perfectly timed! It’s all a publicity stunt for the coming show!”