Part 2

As Penny had feared, no one came to admit her. She was turning away in defeat, when she fancied she saw a shade move in one of the upstairs rooms. Encouraged, she knocked again.

Still there was no answer, but distinctly she saw the curtain flutter. Stepping back a pace, she gazed upward.

A dark face was visible in a circular window of one of the tower rooms. For a moment appraising eyes focused upon her. Then the curtain jerked convulsively, and the man was gone.

CHAPTER 3 _A THATCHED ROOF COTTAGE_

Satisfied that the house was not deserted, Penny hammered harder on the massive oaken door with the brass knocker. Still no one came to admit her.

"Someone is here," she thought, intensely annoyed. "Well, if he can be stubborn, so can I! I'll make such a nuisance of myself, they'll have to let me in."

She hammered steadily with the knocker for a half minute, then she experimented with pattern knocks, in interesting combinations of dots and dashes.

Suddenly, the window above her head flew open, and the same dark-faced man peered angrily down at her.

"What you want?" he demanded in an unpleasant voice.

"Why, I should like to see Mrs. Rhett," Penny replied politely. "She's here, isn't she?"

"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't," was the sharp retort. "Who are you?"

Resenting the man's unfriendly attitude, Penny nevertheless answered that she was from the _Riverview Star_ and desired to interview Mrs. Rhett about her missing husband.

"Madam not seeing anyone. Go 'way now!"

The window slammed shut.

Convinced that the man, evidently a servant, had acted upon instructions from Mrs. Rhett, Penny wondered what to do. She considered returning to the _Star_ office to explain to Editor DeWitt.

But in Mr. DeWitt's dictionary there was no such word as failure. He would cock an eyebrow at her, growl: "So you couldn't get in, eh?" and promptly send a more aggressive reporter to the mansion.

"I could force my way in, but that's trespassing," she reflected with deepening gloom. "If I were thrown into jail, Mr. DeWitt probably wouldn't even bother to bail me out! He'd say I didn't use my head in an emergency."

Penny decided to wait for the _Star_ photographer, who also had been sent out. In a tight pinch, photographers nearly always could come up with a picture. Between them they might think of a means of getting into the mansion.

"I hope Salt Sommers is sent here," she thought. "He's a good scout. He'll help me get the story."

Penny glanced hopefully toward the highway, but the press car was not to be seen. With a sigh, she slowly circled the house.

The building, no longer new, once had been one of Riverview's finest homes. Now the red brick exterior had become discolored, and trees and bushes disclosed lack of skilled care. A hedge flanking the walk had been trimmed unevenly. The lawn was badly mowed, with many weeds going to seed.

Nevertheless, the estate was impressive, and Penny walked along a sloping path to a pool of water lilies. Seating herself on the cement rim, she dabbled her hand in the water. A moment later, raising her eyes, she caught a flash of color at one of the mansion windows.

"I'm being watched," she thought. "Perhaps if I poke around here long enough, Mrs. Rhett will decide to see me."

However, there was no further movement at the window, and presently Penny wandered around to the rear of the house. Two interesting architectural features drew her attention. At each side of the house were circular tower rooms, each with two tiny round windows which resembled human eyes.

From the rear of the mansion, several paths led in diverse directions. One, which was weed-choked, apparently angled toward the river beach. Years before, when the Heights Yacht Club had been in operation, many sailboats plied the waters at this particular point.

Now, except for an occasional fisherman, few boats ever came so far upstream. As the once fine neighborhood had deteriorated, householders gradually had moved away. Penny judged that the Rhetts, isolated from their neighbors, probably were the only socially prominent people remaining.

Selecting a path which led away from the river, deeper into the grounds, Penny presently found herself some distance from the road and the boundary fences.

Hedging the cinder trail were high, untrimmed bushes which completely screened her view. After walking a short distance, she paused, uncertain whether to keep on or return to the road.

"This exploration isn't helping me get a story," she reflected. "If the _Star_ photographer should come while I'm here, I might miss him."

However, the trail had a fascination for Penny and she was reluctant to turn back. In a tiny clearing a short distance ahead, she saw what appeared to be a thatched roof cottage. Only a moment or two would be required to investigate it, she thought. Then she would return to the road to await the photographer.

As Penny started eagerly on, she stubbed the toe of her shoe on a stone, and nearly tripped. By quick footwork, she saved herself a fall, but as she paused to recover breath, she plainly saw the bushes at the left hand side of the trail move convulsively. Only a slight breeze had rippled the tree leaves.

Penny was certain that someone stood behind the bush, watching her movements.

"Probably it's that dark skinned man who called to me from the window," she thought.

The knowledge that she was a trespasser on the Rhett property made Penny slightly uneasy. Likewise, it was unnerving to know that her every move was being watched. Admitting to herself that she should turn back, she nevertheless kept on down the path.

Without appearing to do so, she kept her eyes on the bushes at the left hand side of the trail. Now and then a slight jerk of the foliage convinced her that the one who watched was following and keeping pace with her.

Penny hastened her steps as she moved through a cool, densely shaded woodland. Frost had tinted many of the leaves with red and gold, but the arresting beauty of the foliage was completely lost upon her. She was only aware of those soft footsteps behind her.

Then unexpectedly, Penny came to the clearing. Scarcely seventy-five yards ahead, stood the thatched roof cottage which had attracted her interest from afar.

So quaint was the building that for a moment she gave it her entire attention, forgetting the one who watched from the bushes.

From where she stood, the cottage appeared to be about the size of a large room, and resembled a native hut. No windows were visible. The door was closed, and across it was painted in black and red a symbol which even from afar could be distinguished as a serpent-like figure.

The cottage fascinated Penny. At first glance she assumed it to be a large playhouse, but the serpent painting convinced her the building never had been intended for use of children.

A garden or tool house perhaps? She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Into her mind flashed a recollection of the drawing that had fallen from Mr. Rhett's desk in the First National Bank. The paper had borne a plumed serpent, apparently a counterpart of the painting on the door of the thatched roof cottage!

Forgetful of the person who crouched in the bushes, Penny started eagerly forward, intending to examine the strange drawing at close range. Something whizzed past her, to embed itself in a tree trunk six inches from her head.

Brought up short, she saw that it was an arrow which had narrowly missed her. Had it been shot from the bushes behind her, and by the person who had stealthily followed her along the trail?

In cold fury, Penny jerked the arrow from the tree. Only then did she notice a folded sheet of notebook paper attached to it with a bit of string. She broke the knot and freed the paper. Across its crumbled face had been penciled a message. The lead had smeared and the words were hard to read. But she made them out.

The warning note said: "Do not approach the thatched roof cottage. To do so is to endanger your life."

CHAPTER 4 _BEHIND THE BUSHES_

Having read the warning message, Penny whirled around to gaze toward the bushes on the left side of the path. All now was still, with not the slightest movement of leaves to reveal the presence of the one who had shot the arrow.

"It's that man who talked so unpleasantly to me from the mansion window!" she thought. "Why, he might have struck me with the arrow! I'll put an end to his target practice!"

Acting impulsively, she made a sudden dive for the bushes, jerking them apart to expose the one who had followed her. No one was there.

The grass, however, was trampled, and some distance away, she heard a scurry of footsteps.

"Trying to get away!" she thought grimly. "Not if I can prevent it! I'll have it out with him and learn why he's warning me my life is endangered!"

The footsteps fast were dying away. Listening intently, Penny decided that the person who had shot the arrow was stealing through the bushes toward the river path.

Seeking the intersection of the two paths, the girl stole noiselessly down the cindered trail sloping toward the beach. She had guessed correctly. In a moment she heard an agitation in the bushes nearby and knew that the person she sought was struggling through a tangle of underbrush.

Soon the bushes parted and a thin girl in blue shirt and slacks stepped out onto the cindered path. In one hand she carried an Indian bow with a quiver of arrows, while with the other, she brushed dry leaves from her long, dark hair.

Having expected to see a man, Penny was startled. As she opened her lips to speak, the girl saw her and was brought up short. She gasped in dismay, turned, and with astonishing speed darted down the path leading to the beach.

"Wait!" called Penny.

Keeping her face down, the girl raced on.

Determining that she should not escape without an explanation, Penny gave chase. The runner had an excellent start, but on coming to a series of wooden steps, her heel caught in a small hole. Down she went, and before she could arise, Penny had overtaken her.

Observing that the fall had not injured the girl, she said sternly:

"Now little Miss Robin Hood, will you kindly explain why you tried to exterminate me with that arrow?"

Sitting up, the girl ruefully rubbed an ankle and gazed at Penny with hostile brown eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she retorted. "I had no intention of hitting you. My aim is perfect."

"Modest, at any rate," observed Penny, smiling despite a determination to appear very stern. "You did write the warning note?"

"Naturally."

"Why, may I ask?"

"Because in the first place, you have no business being on our property. Secondly, I didn't want you to go to the thatched roof cottage."

"May I ask your name?"

"I'm Lorinda Rhett."

"Hamilton Rhett's daughter!"

"Stepdaughter," the girl corrected.

"You're just the person I want to see!" exclaimed Penny, overjoyed at her good fortune. "Your stepfather--"

"I'll answer no questions about him," the girl interrupted. "You may as well spare your breath. Mother and I want no reporters here."

"So you know who I am?"

"How could one help knowing? You nearly broke our door down with your pounding, and I heard you talking to Anton."

"Your servant?"

"My stepfather's," Lorinda corrected with a slight inflection which suggested that she did not entirely approve of Anton. "Now will you stop asking questions and go away?"

"All in good time. First, I'm relieved to know that the thatched cottage isn't really dangerous. You only wrote that to be rid of me."

Lorinda gave her a long, steady look but said not a word.

"Or perhaps there is some mystery about the cottage," Penny went on. "After all, your stepfather's disappearance was very queer. But the police, no doubt, will get at the bottom of it when they come here."

Lorinda scrambled to her feet. "The police!" she gasped. "We'll not have them here prying around!"

"Whether or not you like it, I'm afraid you will have the police on your doorstep. A man of Mr. Rhett's prominence can't disappear without a few questions being asked."

Lorinda lost much of her defiance. "But this is our own private affair," she protested. "My stepfather will return--at least, I think he will."

"And the missing bonds?"

"Missing bonds?"

"Didn't Albert Potts, the bank secretary, inform your mother that $250,000 in negotiable securities also had disappeared?"

"Why, no! At least I knew nothing of it! Surely you don't think my stepfather would stoop to the theft of bank securities?"

"I have no opinion in the matter. I'm merely here to get the true story. For some reason you and your mother have been unwilling to cooperate."

Lorinda did not reply, but seemed to be thinking deeply.

"Do you have any idea where your stepfather is now?" Penny inquired, hoping that a direct approach might glean information.

"No, of course not."

"You haven't seen him for the past ten days?"

"That is true," Lorinda acknowledged with great reluctance. "But it's not so unusual. My stepfather frequently goes away on trips."

"Without telling anyone where he is going?"

"I'll not answer that question," Lorinda said with a proud uptilt of her chin.

"I'm afraid you don't like reporters very well," observed Penny pleasantly. "Nor do you seem especially fond of your stepfather."

"That's not true! I do like my stepfather. Why, he was the one who taught me how to shoot with a bow and arrow! He gave me this bow which is a valuable collector's item!"

She offered it to Penny who inspected the fine workmanship with keen interest.

"Mr. Rhett is a collector?" she inquired.

"Yes, he's traveled all over the world, but most of his time was spent in the jungles of Africa, Brazil, and other places in South America. That was before he married Mother, of course."

"Your stepfather was especially interested in ancient religious cults?"

"He made a study of it, and for a year gathered material by living in the jungle." Lorinda suddenly broke off, aware that she was warming to Penny and telling her entirely too much.

"Then it was your father who built the thatched roof cottage?"

"Please, let's not talk about it," Lorinda pleaded. "I don't like to be unfriendly or impolite, but you must understand there are things I can't tell you, and which must never be published."

Taking the ancient bow from Penny's hand, the girl started up the path, limping a trifle on her twisted ankle.

"Only one more question, Lorinda. Please tell me the truth. Why were you afraid to have me investigate the thatched roof cottage?"

The girl paused on the path, gazing at Penny quite pathetically.

"Don't ask me to tell you any more," she whispered. "The cottage is a place of evil omen. Truly, I did you a favor in warning you away."

"I saw a painting on the door--that of a winged or plumed serpent. Will you explain its significance?"

"I only know that my stepfather had it painted there when the cottage was built soon after his marriage to my mother. It is a symbol of one of the ancient cults he studied. Many of his trophies bear the same picture."

The information was a little disappointing to Penny. "Then I suppose the drawing that the police found in Mr. Rhett's office had no great significance," she remarked.

"Drawing?"

Penny described the serpent picture which had been found, adding: "On the sheet were written the words: 'This shall be the end.'"

"You are certain?"

"Oh, yes, I saw the paper myself."

Lorinda was visibly disturbed. "I must see that writing! It may mean--" she broke off and amended: "Tell me, where is the paper now?"

"The police have it."

"Oh!"

"Why do you seem to fear the police?" inquired Penny curiously.

"I am not afraid of them--certainly not. It's just that Mother and I prefer to keep our lives private. Facts can be so easily misinterpreted."

"Your reluctance to assist the police also can be misinterpreted," said Penny. "For instance, it seems strange to me that your stepfather's disappearance doesn't seem to disturb you."

"Oh, it does! It's only--well, there are things I can't tell you without my mother's permission. My stepfather is queer. Mother and I never liked his interest in weird cult practices. He had so many strange acquaintances and ties with the past. We always were afraid something dreadful might happen."

"Then he may have met foul play?"

"I don't know what to think," Lorinda said miserably. "A ten-day disappearance is not so serious. My stepfather occasionally went away before without telling us, though never for such a long period. If it weren't for the paper found in his desk, and the missing bonds, I would say it's much ado about nothing."

"As it is--?"

"The loss of $250,000 could be a very serious matter. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Penny Parker."

"You're here only to get a story for your paper?"

"That was why I came, but since meeting you I truthfully can say I also am very much interested in helping you if possible."

"I like you," Lorinda declared with a quick smile. "I'm sorry about the arrow. And I was very rude."

"Not at all. I deliberately egged you on, hoping you would tell me about your stepfather. I was sent here to get a picture of him, and I hate to fail."

"A picture? Mother has one, but I doubt that she would permit you to use it." Lorinda considered a moment, then added: "Tell you what! I'll take you to her, and perhaps, if you're a convincing talker, she'll agree to your request."

"Oh, Lorinda, that's fine!"

The Rhett girl linked arms with Penny as they trudged up the path to the house.

"Don't count your chickens just yet," she warned. "Mother doesn't like reporters. It will be sheer luck if she gives you the picture or any information you can use in the paper."

CHAPTER 5 _AN EVIL CHARM_

"Mother has disliked reporters ever since she married my stepfather, two years ago," Lorinda confided as the girls approached the house. "We were in the Eastern part of the country at the time, and papers played up the story, suggesting that Mr. Rhett was a fortune hunter."

"Then he had no money of his own?"

"Not a great deal. You see, my stepfather loved travel, and until he met Mother he never really settled down. He made a little by writing magazine articles, and he spent it roving about the country and exploring far corners of the world."

"It must have been an interesting life," Penny commented politely. "Your mother enjoyed travel too?"

"Oh, mercy no! One hardly can get her away from Riverview. She and my stepfather never traveled together after they were married."

Penny gathered that Mr. and Mrs. Rhett were entirely different types of individuals, but she asked no additional questions, for by this time, the girls had reached the house.

Crossing a stone terrace at the rear of the dwelling, they entered a spacious living room furnished with elegant though formal furniture. Shades were partially drawn, giving the interior a gloomy atmosphere, despite the vases of brightly colored chrysanthemums which decorated the tables.

A woman with dark hair tinged with gray sat reading a book. She was immaculately groomed, every curl of an elaborate hair-do in place, but her face lacked tranquility. Her eyes were not on the page before her, Penny noted, and as the two girls came in, she visibly started.

"Oh, it's you, Lorinda," she murmured in relief. "I declare, I am getting jumpy! For a moment I thought it might be the police or that inquisitive reporter--"

"Mother," interposed Lorinda hastily, "allow me to present Penny Parker, from the _Riverview Star_."

Mrs. Rhett laid aside the book and stared at Penny, her face without expression. Her voice was cold as she spoke.

"From the _Star_? Lorinda, I am _very_ sorry, but you know my feeling in this matter."

"Penny really is very nice, Mother," Lorinda said, flashing her companion an encouraging smile. "She didn't want to come out here and question us about father, but the editor sent her. He wants a picture, too."

Mrs. Rhett arose to terminate an interview which had never really begun. "I am sorry," she repeated with emphasis. "There are to be no pictures taken."

"The editor especially wanted a photograph of your husband," Penny said. "By publishing it in the paper, it may be easier to trace him."

"Miss Parker," replied Mrs. Rhett pleasantly but with no warmth, "if I need assistance in locating my husband I shall request it. Meanwhile, I do wish people would not concern themselves with our affairs."

"Mother, we may not be able to avoid publicity," Lorinda rushed on. "There's likely to be a scandal. You see, $250,000 in negotiable bonds disappeared from the bank."

For a moment, Mrs. Rhett did not speak. A dagger-type paper cutter lay on the polished table beside her. Nervously her fingers closed upon it, and unaware of the act, she jabbed the sharp point several times through a lace doily centerpiece.

"Mother, you're ruining that!"

Mrs. Rhett dropped the paper cutter, which clattered on the table and tumbled to the floor. Without picking it up, she moved restlessly to the window, only to return.

"What were you saying about $250,000 in bonds, Lorinda?" she asked. "Surely you didn't mean--"

"I only know what Penny told me. Soon after Father disappeared, Albert Potts discovered the bonds also were missing."

"There can be no connection. Why, even the suggestion that my husband would steal is ridiculous! It's preposterous!"

"No one has accused your husband," Penny said quietly. "Perhaps the bonds will be found. Now that the police have stepped into the case, there should be developments."

"The police," repeated Mrs. Rhett with a shiver. "Oh, dear, must we suffer their interference!"

A telephone in an adjoining room rang and Lorinda started to answer it. But her mother signalled to her.

"Let it go, Lorinda. It may be the police now, or another reporter. We'll have nothing to say."

The telephone rang again. Footsteps were heard down a hallway and a well-built, dark-skinned house-worker of middle age padded into the room. She gazed with intent curiosity at Penny as she started toward the library to answer the phone.

"No, let it ring, Celeste," Mrs. Rhett directed. "And if anyone comes to the door asking for me, remember, I am not at home."

"Yes'm," mumbled the housekeeper. She bent to pick up the paper cutter from the floor and as she did so an object which was tied about her neck with a cord and kept hidden beneath her starched uniform, swung into view.

Penny obtained only a fleeting glimpse of the curious article, for the woman hastily thrust it into her dress front again. However, it appeared to be a tiny packet of cloth.

Lorinda also had observed the object. Fixing the woman with a stern gaze she said: "Celeste, you're wearing one of those heathenish _ouange_ charms again! You promised Mother you wouldn't!"

"This only keeps away bad sickness," the woman retorted, with a slight accent which nevertheless made her words hard to understand. "A good _ouange_. Now that my master is away, you are not to tell me what to do."

"Lorinda, don't plague her," Mrs. Rhett said wearily. "We have enough trouble as it is. Let her wear the charm, or a dozen of them, if it gives her any satisfaction."

Lorinda subsided into injured silence, while Celeste flashed a triumphant smile.

Mrs. Rhett turned again to Penny. In a tone which could be interpreted only as a final dismissal she said: "I am sorry, Miss Parker, that I cannot help you. At present I do not know my husband's whereabouts or why he went away. If you will excuse me now, I shall go to my room for a rest."

With dignity she crossed the living room to a handsome circular stairway with a railing of polished mahogany. Her head held proudly, she presented a regal figure as she slowly climbed the steps.