The Secret Pact Part 35

A clock struck eight-thirty. Five minutes later Penny observed a familiar figure coming briskly down the street. She touched her chum's arm.

"It's Peter Fenestra," Louise murmured. "You don't think he's the one?"

"We'll soon see."

Fenestra was too far away to notice the girls. As they watched, he walked to the doorway of Ellis Saal's shop. Quickly he glanced about as if to ascertain that the street was deserted. Then he slipped into the shop, closing the door behind him.

CHAPTER 22 _GHOSTS OF THE PAST_

"Peter Fenestra," murmured Louise. "Can there be any doubt that he is the customer Ellis Saal meant?"

"Not in my opinion," rejoined Penny.

"Isn't it possible that he went into the shop to have a photograph taken, or for some other reason?"

"Possible but not probable. No, Lou, we should have guessed long ago that Fenestra is an ex-sailor. It's all becoming clear now."

"Then I wish you would explain to me."

"Don't you see? Anchor Joe, John Munn, Fenestra, and perhaps a fourth man must have been good friends at one time. They had their tattoos with that phrase, _All for one, one for all_, p.r.i.c.ked on their backs. Then Fenestra must have done something which made the others angry. They followed him here to get even with him."

"What makes you think that?" Louise asked dubiously.

"Anchor Joe gave us a good broad hint. Then we know that he and at least one other man have kept watch of the Fenestra farm."

"What can the man have done to offend them?"

"I can't guess that part," admitted Penny. "Another thing, why should Fenestra decide to have his octopus tattoo removed?"

"And who pushed John Munn off the bridge?" Louise added. "We're as much in the dark as ever."

"Not quite," amended Penny. "I feel that if only we could get into that storm cave, we might learn the answer to some of our questions."

"You're not thinking of investigating it tonight?"

Penny shook her head. "I can't without Dad's permission. It's a pity, too, because I know a big story is awaiting me, if only I could go out there and get it."

"I'm sure of one thing. We'll never dare print a word against Fenestra without absolute proof."

"No," agreed Penny, her eyebrows knitting in a frown, "it would lead to legal trouble."

Deciding that nothing more could be learned by waiting, the girls returned to the parked car. Motoring toward Louise's home, they discussed various angles of the baffling case. Confronting them always was the fact that Peter Fenestra's reputation in Riverview was excellent, while Anchor Joe and John Munn appeared to be persons of questionable character.

"You never learned why Joe was wanted by the authorities?" Louise inquired, alighting at her doorstep.

"No, I haven't seen Mr. Moyer since that day at the cottage. I'm reasonably sure Joe is still at liberty."

"He may be the one at the bottom of all the trouble," declared Louise.

"We tend to suspect Fenestra of evil doing because we dislike him so heartily."

"That's so, Lou. The best way is to have no opinions and wait for facts.

But waiting wears me to a frazzle!"

After parting from her chum, Penny did not drive home. Instead, she turned into Drexel Boulevard, and presently was ringing the doorbell of the Judson home.

The door was opened by Matthew Judson. Penny had not expected to meet the former publisher. Somewhat confusedly she inquired for Pauletta.

"My daughter isn't here now," replied Mr. Judson. "I expect her home within a few minutes. Won't you wait?"

"No, thank you," Penny declined. "I'll drop in some other time."

"I wish you would stay," urged Mr. Judson. "I find an empty house so depressing."

Penny hesitated, and then followed the former publisher to the living room. Mr. Judson had been reading the newspaper. He swept it from a chair so that the girl could sit opposite him.

"Tell me how you are getting on with your newspaper," he urged in a friendly tone.

Penny talked entertainingly, relating the various difficulties which beset a young publisher.

"I've even received threatening notes," she revealed. "Or rather, one. I think it was left on my desk by a man named Peter Fenestra."

"Fenestra?" Mr. Judson's face darkened.

"Yes," answered Penny, watching the publisher attentively. "Do you know him?"

"Only by reputation. He's a scoundrel!" His voice grew quite intense.

"Can you tell me anything definite against him?"

"No--no, I can't. I only advise you to have nothing whatsoever to do with him."

The telephone rang and Mr. Judson arose to answer it. During his absence, Penny thought swiftly. Dared she mention the clipping which she had found in the publisher's desk? She did not wish to antagonize him, yet there were many questions she longed to ask.

Mr. Judson presently returned. Penny decided to risk his anger.

Casually she introduced the subject by mentioning that she was using Mr.

Judson's former office and desk as her own.

"Yesterday I came upon a clipping caught beneath the lower drawer," she said quietly. "It concerned a man named Matthew Jewel. He bore a striking resemblance to you."

The publisher raised his eyes to stare intently at Penny. His hands gripped the chair arms so hard that the knuckles became a bluish-white.

Splotches of red appeared on his forehead.

"Matthew Jewel?" he murmured at last.