Part 5

Mr. Parker smiled but made no comment as he pocketed the telegram. Together he and Penny went downstairs to the waiting car.

"Maybe I could help Mr. Ayling by inquiring around the city if anyone has seen Mrs. Hawthorne or her granddaughter," Penny suggested as she drove with skill through dense downtown traffic.

"I thought Mr. Ayling checked all hotels."

"Only the larger ones, I imagine. Anyhow, I might run into interesting information."

"Go ahead, if you like," her father encouraged her.

Early the next morning, Penny set off alone to visit a dozen hotels. At none of them had anyone by the name of Hawthorne registered.

"She may have used an assumed name," Penny thought, a trifle discouraged. "In that case, I'll never find her."

Hopeful that Mr. Ayling might arrive on the morning train, she went to the Union Railroad Station. Among those waiting on the platform for the incoming Chicago Express was Winkey, the hunchback.

He did not see Penny, and in the large crowd, she soon lost sight of him.

Finally, the train pulled in. But Mr. Ayling did not alight from either the coaches or pullmans. Feeling even more depressed, Penny went home for lunch.

Several times during the afternoon, she telephoned Mr. Ayling's hotel to inquire if he had arrived. Each time she was told he had not checked in.

"Wonder what's keeping him in Chicago?" Penny mused. "I hope he didn't change his mind about coming back here."

Throughout the day, she kept thinking about the monastery and its strange occupants. The skiing incident of the previous afternoon had convinced her that Winkey at least was cruel and dishonest. As to Father Benedict's character, she could not make up her mind.

"Possibly he doesn't know how surly and mean his servant acts," she thought. "Someone ought to tell him!"

Penny longed to return to the monastery, but hesitated to go there for the deliberate purpose of reporting Winkey's misbehavior.

"Mr. Ayling may return here tomorrow," she told herself. "Then perhaps we can drive out there together."

However, a check of the Riverview Hotel the following morning, disclosed that the investigator still had not arrived in the city.

Decidedly mystified by his failure to return, Penny clomped into the Parker kitchen after having spent an hour downtown. To her surprise she saw that during her absence a bulky package had been delivered.

"It came for you a half hour ago," Mrs. Weems explained.

"For me! Must be a mistake. I've ordered nothing from any store."

Plainly the package bore her name, so she tore off the heavy wrappings. Inside was a pair of new hickory skis.

"Dad must have sent them!" she exclaimed. "Just what I need."

However, the skis were not from her father. Among the wrappings she found a card with Mr. Eckenrod's name.

"Try these for size," the artist had scrawled in an almost illegible hand. "Thanks for pulling me out of a hole! My leg is mending rapidly, so don't forget our date!"

"Oh, the darling!" Penny cried. "Mighty decent of him to replace the skis I broke! Only I'm afraid I won't get to use them many times. It's thawing fast today."

Slipping her slim ankles through the leather bindings, she glided awkwardly about the polished linoleum.

"How soon's luncheon?" she asked impatiently. "I want to go skiing right away!"

"I'll put it on after I've telephoned Jake Cotton," the housekeeper promised. "He failed to show up here today."

"Jake Cotton, the carpenter?"

"Yes, your father ordered another bookcase for the den. Jake promised to build it last week. He's always putting other jobs ahead."

After telephoning, Mrs. Weems toasted sandwiches and made hot chocolate. Penny ate rapidly, as was her habit when thinking of other matters.

"You won't need any help with the dishes," she said hopefully when the meal was over.

"No, run along and ski," Mrs. Weems smiled. "In spirit you're already out there on the hills!"

Penny changed quickly into skiing outfit and telephoned Louise Sidell, inviting her to go along.

"Okay," her chum agreed half-heartedly, "but I'm still lame from the last time."

By the time the girls reached the hills near the Abbington Monastery, the weather had turned discouragingly warm.

Touring over the slopes, they discarded first their mittens, then their jackets. After Louise had fallen down several times, soaking her clothes in melted snow, she proposed that they abandon the sport.

"So early in the afternoon?" Penny protested. "Oh, we can't go home yet!"

"Then let's try something else. It's no fun skiing today."

Penny's gaze fastened speculatively upon the distant chimneys of the old monastery visible through the pine trees. "I have it, Lou!" she exclaimed.

"We're not going there!" cried Louise, reading the thought.

"Why not?" Already Penny was removing her skis. "I haven't learned half what I want to know about that place and the people who live there."

"It gives me the shivers to go near the property. Anyhow, that old hunchback never will let us inside!"

"Why don't we try, just for luck? Come on, Lou, at least we can talk to him."

Much against her will, Louise was induced to accompany Penny to the big grilled gate.

To their surprise, it stood slightly ajar as if in invitation for them to enter. The front grounds were deserted and so was the gatehouse.

"We're in luck!" chuckled Penny. "Winkey's gone off somewhere."

Louise's feet were reluctant as she followed her chum to the entrance door of the monastery. "Please--" she whispered, but already Penny had thumped the lion's head knocker against the brass plate.

Several moments elapsed and then a peephole panel just above their heads shot open. Old Julia, in white lace cap, her eyes dilated with wonder or fear, peered out at them.

Her lips moved in a gibberish they could not understand.

"She's telling us to go away!" Louise decided quickly. "And that's what we're doing!"

"No! Wait!" Penny held tight to her chum's arm. "Someone else is coming now."

Even as she spoke, the door opened and Father Benedict towered above them in his impressive robes.

"Yes?" he inquired. The word was mildly spoken but with no cordiality.

"Good afternoon, Father," said Penny brightly. "I hope you don't mind our coming here again. We're deeply interested in the work you're doing and would like to learn more about the cult."

"A story for newspaper publication?"

"Oh, no!" Penny assured him, reading displeasure in his eyes. "We're just interested on general principles. No one sent us."

The monk relaxed slightly but still did not invite the girls in. "I am very busy today," he said. "Perhaps another time--"

"Oh, but we'll be in school after this weekend, Father."

"We are preparing for a ceremonial to be held in the cloister," Father Benedict frowned. "I deeply regret--"

"Oh, a ceremonial!" Penny interrupted eagerly. "May we see it?"

"That is not allowed. Only members of our cult may take part or observe."

"Well, at least you don't mind if we come in and warm ourselves at your hospitable fire," Penny said, determined not to be turned away. "Since the organization is devoted to charity, shouldn't it begin with a couple of school girls?"

Father Benedict's thin lips cracked into a slight smile.

"My observation would lead me to believe that the day is a warm one and that neither of you are suffering from frost-bite. However, I admire perseverance and it shall be rewarded. You may come in--though only for a short while."

"Oh, thank you, Father!" Penny exclaimed, rather astonished by the decision.

In her eagerness to enter, she nearly stumbled over Old Julia, who huddled by the wall just inside the door. Angrily, the monk glared at his servant.

"Keep from underfoot, Julia!" he ordered. "Begone to the kitchen!"

The old woman, with a frightened glance directed at Louise and Penny, scurried away.

Once inside, the girls could understand why visitors were not welcome, for little had been done to make the place habitable since Penny's previous visit.

Through chilly halls the monk conducted the girls to the study beyond the cloister. There he motioned them to footstools before the fire. On the hearth a large log which Penny suspected had come from the Eckenrod property, had burned down to a cherry mass of coals.

"Now, suppose you tell me what you actually came here to learn?" Father Benedict asked, looking hard at Penny.

The abrupt question caught her slightly off guard. She could think of no ready reply. As she debated whether or not to tell him of Winkey's fight with Mr. Eckenrod, footsteps pounded down the corridor.

Suddenly the study door was flung open. The hunchback stood there, breathing hard from having hurried so fast.

"Come quick!" he said tersely to the monk.

"What's wrong, Winkey?"

"Trouble below!"

Preparing to follow the hunchback, Father Benedict briefly made his excuses to the girls. "I'll be gone only a minute," he said. "Warm yourselves until my return."

After the door had closed behind the pair, Penny said in a low tone: "Wonder what's up? So far as I know, the only rooms below are the storage cellars and crypt."

"Maybe some of the dead bodies are coming to life!" Louise joked feebly. "I hate this place worse every minute."

She arose and wandered slowly about the room. "Somehow, the air is oppressive. I feel as if doom were about to descend upon me!"

"Nerves!" chuckled Penny.

Louise paused beside the crystal ball. "What's this thing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Only Father Benedict's crystal globe. Take a look and see what's doing in the cellar!"

"You're joking!"

"Guess I am," Penny agreed. Arising, she joined Louise and for a long moment peered intently into the depths of the crystal ball. Seeing nothing in the glass she muttered in disgust: "Bunk!"

"How does one reach the basement and crypt?" Louise inquired.

"According to a plan I saw at Mr. Eckenrod's, a stairway leads down from the far end of the cloister. Say! Why not do a little exploring while Father Benedict is away?"

"He wouldn't like it."

"We'll never have a better chance." Crossing the room in long strides, Penny tried to open the door.

The knob turned readily, but the door would not open.

"Lou," she exclaimed in dismay, "Father Benedict certainly played a nice trick on us! We're locked in!"

CHAPTER 13 _OLD JULIA'S WARNING_

Badly frightened, Louise came quickly to her chum's side.

"Are you sure the door is locked?" she asked nervously. "Maybe it's only stuck."

"It's locked all right. We'll do no exploring today."

"Let's scream for help! We've got to get out of here!"

"Father Benedict is in the basement and wouldn't hear us," Penny said.

"And he may have locked us in on purpose too! But I heard no key turn in the lock."

"Neither did I."

"The door may have an automatic catch."

"Probably that's so," Penny agreed to keep her chum from worrying. "Father Benedict should be back soon. Let's not let him know we even noticed the door was locked."

"Do you think he fastened it on purpose?"

"He may have," Penny said slowly. "Perhaps he didn't want us to wander about the monastery while he was gone."

"What if he doesn't come back?"

"He will, my pet. Now do stop worrying! The smart thing for us to do, is to learn what we can while we're here."

"A lot we can learn locked up in this stuffy room!"

Without replying, Penny wandered about the room, scrutinizing art objects and each piece of furniture.

"For a man who professes to live a life of poverty, Father Benedict shows quite a liking for luxury items," she remarked.

Coming to a battered desk cluttered with papers, she paused and eyed it thoughtfully.

"Penny, we wouldn't dare pry!" exclaimed Louise, guessing what was in her chum's mind.

"I suppose not," sighed Penny, "only I'm sure Mr. Ayling would do it if he were here. Those papers in the pigeon holes look as though they're unpaid bills--a whole stack of them too!"

On the desk lay an open account book and the girl gazed at it with keen interest. A long list of names had been written in ink. On one side of the ledger was a column marked "Contributions."

"Penny, you are snooping!" accused Louise, but she added with an excited laugh: "If you find anything worth while, let me know!"

"Then consider yourself officially notified!"

Startled, Louise went quickly to the desk. "What have you found?" she demanded.

Penny showed her the book in which were listed many names.

"This looks like a report covering donations made by cult members to the society!" she declared. "Do you suppose Mrs. Hawthorne's name is here?"

Hurriedly the girls examined the tiny ledger. First on the list was a Mrs. Carl Kingsley, who had contributed two diamond clips at estimated value of $650.

"Ever hear of her?" Penny asked, for the name was unfamiliar.

"Never. She may not be from Riverview."

Rapidly they scanned the entire list. There were many names, all of women. Contributions included cash, pearls, silver bracelets, gold wrist watches, an emerald pin, and other articles of jewelry.

However, the girls could not find Mrs. Hawthorne's name, nor that of her granddaughter.

"This list doesn't prove anything one way or the other," Penny said, carefully replacing the ledger on the desk where she had found it. "Mrs. Hawthorne could have joined the cult under a different name. Father Benedict might not even know who she is."

"Oh, Penny!" teased her companion. "You want to uncover a mystery so badly! Actually, there's not one bit of evidence that Mrs. Hawthorne ever came here."

"True," Penny acknowledged in a low tone, "but you will admit a lot of queer things have happened. For instance, who sent Mr. Ayling the fake telegram? And why hasn't he returned to Riverview as he said he would?"

"He's hardly had time yet. Anyway, what connection could his absence have with this monastery?"

"None, perhaps. Unless Mrs. Hawthorne should be here--"

"Oh, Penny! Father Benedict denied that she was, didn't he?"

"Yes, but that crystal ball reading he gave for Mr. Ayling's benefit was a strange affair. And Lou! The worst was, _he predicted harm would befall him_! Maybe it has!"

"So you're superstitious! Do you really believe in those crystal ball readings?"

"No, I'm not!" Penny denied hotly. "Not for a minute do I put any faith in that crystal ball! But--"

"Mr. Ayling is delayed in Chicago, so you start to worry," completed Louise. "Penny, you're certainly building up a case!"

"Maybe I am," Penny admitted with a shrug. "However, other things bother me too."

"For instance?"

"That scream we heard at midnight. Mr. Eckenrod and his wife told me they had been awakened by strange noises here."

"Didn't you understand from Father Benedict that Old Julia causes the commotion?"

"Yes, and it's plain to see she is a poor demented creature. Still, there's something about her--when we came in today, I had a feeling that she was trying to tell us something."

"She did warn us away. However, in her condition she might say anything. So I dismissed it."

"I wish I could talk to Old Julia when Father Benedict isn't around," Penny said soberly. "I have a hunch she could tell us interesting things about this place!"

"Then you do distrust Father Benedict!"

"Not exactly," Penny denied. "He's been pleasant enough to us, and I suppose he has a perfect right to start a crazy cult here if he chooses."

"It's not only crazy but profitable," Louise reminded her. "Those contributions listed total up to several thousand dollars!"

"According to Father Benedict, the money goes to charity. But what charity? It's a cinch he isn't spending much in supporting the members of his cult. This building is as barren as a barn, and I've not seen any supplies come into the place while we've been around!"

"And where are the cult members?"

"They must stay in their rooms."

"A fine life!"

"I'm sure there are people in this household who aren't listed in the ledger," Penny resumed thoughtfully. "For instance, that girl I saw when I came here with Mr. Ayling. Who is she, and where does she keep herself?"

"Why not ask Father Benedict--that is, if we ever get out of here."

"I can't quite bring myself to do it, Lou. If ever I started asking questions, I wouldn't know where to stop."

"There's only one that bothers me," Louise said, roving toward the door. "How are we going to get out of here? Let's call for help!"

"Okay," Penny agreed reluctantly. "I hate to do it though."

First testing the door again to be certain it was locked and not stuck, she pounded with her fists on the heavy oak paneling.

"Let us out!" Louise called loudly. "Let us out! We're locked in!"

"That ought to fetch someone!" chuckled Penny. "Listen! I think I hear footsteps now."

From down the corridor, the girls detected a soft patter and a creaking of boards. To attract attention to their plight, they again pounded on the oaken panel.

The footsteps approached the door and halted. Penny, her ear pressed to the panel, could hear the sound of breathing on the other side.

"Let us out!" she called. "We're locked in here!"

"Sh!" came the loud hiss.

"It must be Old Julia!" Penny whispered to Louise. "Do you suppose she'll have sense enough to help us?"

"I doubt it," Louise muttered, resigning herself to a long wait in the monk's study. "Maybe we can get across to her the idea that she should bring Father Benedict here."

"Listen, Julia," Penny began, speaking slowly and as clearly as she could. "We're locked in here and we need help. Can you bring your master?"

"No! No!" came the sharp answer.

"Then unlock the door," Penny urged.

"Key gone," the old woman mumbled.

"Can't you find it? Don't you know where your master keeps them?"

There was no answer, but the girls heard the old woman scurry away.

"Has she gone to find a key, or has she just gone?" Louise sighed. "Father Benedict probably still is in the basement with Winkey, so we can expect no help from that quarter."

Impatiently, Penny glanced at her wrist watch. Actually, they had been locked in the room less than twenty minutes, but it seemed three times that long.

"It's useless!" Louise said, seating herself by the fire again. "We're trapped here until Father Benedict gets around to letting us out!"

At the door, Penny's keen ears detected sound. Again the pad, pad of footsteps!

"Old Julia's coming back!" she exclaimed. "Maybe she's not as stupid as we thought!"

Anxiously the girls waited. To their great relief, they heard a key turn in the lock. Then, an inch at a time, the door was pushed open.

Old Julia, her eyes wild, and hair streaming down her face, stared blankly in at them.

"Thanks, Julia!" said Penny. She tried to touch the woman's hand in a gesture of friendship, only to have her shrink back.

"Why, we won't hurt you," Penny attempted to sooth her.

"Go!" the woman mumbled, her cracked lips quivering. "Go!"

_Seeing us here always seems to upset her, Penny thought._ Aloud she remarked: "Yes, we're leaving now. If Father Benedict wonders what became of us, I'm afraid he'll just have to guess."

The girls started toward the cloister with Old Julia following a step behind.

"Hurry! Hurry!" she muttered. "No time!"

"Oh, we have plenty of time, if that's what you mean," replied Penny, smiling at her in a friendly way. Suddenly she halted as the thought occurred to her that she might obtain useful information from the woman if only she phrased her questions skillfully.

"Julia, you must know everyone who lives here in the dormitory rooms," she began. "Do you often see a girl about my age?"

A strange light flickered for a moment in the old woman's watery gray eyes, then died. She merely stared at Penny.

"No soap!" commented Louise. "Let's get out of here."

Penny, however, was persistent.

"Julia, you must have seen her--a girl like me," she emphasized. "Does she sleep here?"

"Sleep--sleep--" the word seemingly had aroused an unpleasant chain of thought in the old woman's twisted mind.

"Where is the girl's room?" Penny probed.

Julia did not act as if she had heard the question. She was mumbling to herself, a look of horror upon her face.

"What's she saying?" Louise demanded, unable to catch a word.

Penny bent closer. Distinctly she heard the old woman mutter: "The canopied bed! In the chapel room--"

Then old Julia stiffened and she flattened herself against the wall of the passageway, her eyes wide with fear.

Directly ahead, in the doorway opening onto the cloister, stood Father Benedict.

CHAPTER 14 _AN ASSIGNMENT FOR PENNY_

Father Benedict's face was as expressionless as a marble statue, but his dark eyes smoldered with anger.

Ignoring Penny and Louise for the moment, he fixed the cringing Julia with stern gaze.

"Did I not order you to remain in the kitchen?" he demanded. His voice was low, almost purring. Nevertheless, the woman acted as if she had been lashed with a whip.

Mumbling unintelligibly, she scurried off down the covered passageway along the side of the cloister, and disappeared through another doorway.

"Please, it wasn't Julia's fault that she was here," said Penny, feeling sorry for the unfortunate woman. "Louise and I called for help and she came to assist us."

"Yes, we were locked in the study," added Louise. "If she hadn't come to our rescue, we would have been there yet."

"Do I understand you to say you were _locked_ in?" asked the monk, his shaggy eyebrows lifting in astonishment. "The door sticks sometimes."

"It was locked," interposed Penny quietly. "We tried several times to open it. Julia finally let us out with a key."

Having divulged this bit of information, she immediately regretted it. A shadow passed over the monk's countenance.

"A key?" he repeated. "How would Julia know--" Breaking off, he smiled and completed: "The locks here are very old and sadly in need of repair. I must have a locksmith in immediately."

Father Benedict fixed his gaze upon one of the twisted, weather-stained columns of the cloister, for the moment seeming to forget the girls. Becoming a little uncomfortable, they edged toward the exit.

"We'll be going now," said Penny to remind him of their presence. "That is, unless you'll permit us to witness the cult ceremony."

"The main hall has not yet been prepared," Father Benedict replied quickly. "We have postponed the ceremony until later tonight."

"Perhaps we could return then."

"It would be highly inadvisable." Father Benedict's deep frown plainly showed that he was becoming irritated. "The members of our sect are sensitive to visitors. I regret onlookers are not as yet welcome."

_That's telling me in a nice way to mind my own business_, thought Penny. Aloud she said: "I see. Well, later on, perhaps."

Politely, Father Benedict escorted the girls through the cloister. Penny noted that much of the dirt and debris had been swept away. A beautifully carved stone stairway, which she had failed to notice upon her previous visit, led up to a narrow balcony.

Observing that many doors opened from it, she inquired if the dormitories were above.

"They are," the monk replied in a brief tone which discouraged further questions.

"It's so still in here," remarked Louise as they walked on. "One never would dream many people are staying in the building."

"We lead a quiet life," the monk explained. "For the most part, my people spend their time reading or in meditation and prayer."

The three now had reached the front door, and Penny thought she detected an expression of relief upon Father Benedict's face as he opened it for them.

"By the way," she remarked, "was anything seriously wrong in the cellar?"

"Oh, no! Nothing at all! Merely a leaking pipe. A plumber will take care of it. Thank you, and good afternoon."

With no show of haste, but very firmly, the monk closed the door in their faces.

"Well, how do you like that!" Penny muttered. "I never received a smoother brush-off!"