Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 16

"I think he does mean to get a court order," she returned soberly.

"He may try," Salt shrugged. "We can handle him."

Following Schirr's departure, everything moved smoothly at the _Star_ plant. One edition after another rolled from the presses. Penny was kept busy, and frequently she was worried and in doubt. Nevertheless, everyone made the way easy for her, and as the day wore on she gained confidence.

Throughout the afternoon, news stories kept pouring into the _Star_ office, but no encouraging information came in regard to Mr. Parker.

Several times Penny called the police station and also talked with Mrs.

Weems. The housekeeper, fearful that the girl would become ill, insisted upon bringing a hot evening meal to the office.

"Penny, you've been here all day," she chided anxiously. "You must come home with me."

"I can't just yet," Penny replied. "There's too much to do. By tomorrow, if Schirr doesn't make trouble, things will smooth out."

"You're working so hard you'll be sick abed!"

"I want to work," Penny said grimly. "It keeps me from thinking. Anyway, Dad would want me to do it."

Mrs. Weems sighed as she gathered up the lunch basket and thermos bottle.

Penny barely had tasted the food.

"When will you be home?" the housekeeper asked.

"I can't say exactly. After the night editions are out. Don't sit up for me."

"You know I couldn't go to bed until you are home," Mrs. Weems responded.

"You'll take a taxi?"

"Of course," promised Penny.

After the housekeeper had gone, she plunged into her duties once more.

With the force short of two men, DeWitt and Schirr, there really was too much work for the desk men to do una.s.sisted. Penny wrote headlines, copy-read stories, and pa.s.sed on all matters of policy. So busy did she keep, that when at length she glanced at her watch, it was eleven-thirty.

"Gracious!" she thought. "And Mrs. Weems will be waiting up for me!"

Saying goodnight to the men who would carry on in her absence, she went down the back stairs to the street. As she glanced about for a taxicab, she saw Old Mose Johnson shuffling toward the loading dock.

"Good evening," she greeted him. "I'm glad to see you're ahead of time tonight."

"Good evenin', Miss Penny," the colored man said, doffing his tattered hat. "Yas'm. I'se heah, but I seed dat same ghost a-lurkin' behind de gate!"

"I hope that ghost isn't becoming a habit with you, Mose."

"Deed Miss Penny, he's mo' dan a habit," the colored man sighed. "He's a suah-nuff live ghost. De fust time I seed him I thought he wasn't no imagination ghost. But when I saw him agin' tonight I was dead suah of it."

"What happened this time, Mose?"

"Well, Miss Penny, I was a walking along dat same road, down by de ole Harrison place when I seed him again. He was a-cavortin' behind dat same iron gate. And he was dressed de same too, in a long white robe."

"And you ran the same too, I suppose?" smiled Penny.

"Ah made myself scarce around dat gate, but I didn't run home dis time. I was a-skeered of mah ole woman. I beats it to de restaurant on de co'ner and waits dere 'till a bus comes. Oh, I'se gettin' good, Miss Penny! I can see a ghost and git to work on time, all de same evenin'!"

"Well, keep up the good work," Penny said jokingly as she turned away.

The meeting with Old Mose had served to divert the girl's mind from her own difficulties. Riding home by taxi, she caught herself reviewing the details of the colored man's outlandish tale.

"Mose couldn't have seen a ghost," she thought, "but he's honest about being frightened. If I didn't have so many serious troubles, I'd be tempted to investigate the old Harrison estate myself."

Penny alighted at her home and walked wearily up the shoveled path. Snow was falling once more. Already the exposed porch was covered with a half-inch coating of feathery flakes.

Inside the house a light flashed on. The bright beam s.h.i.+ning through the window drew Penny's attention to a series of freshly-made footprints criss-crossing the porch.

"Mrs. Weems must have had a visitor," she thought, observing that the heel marks were made by a woman's shoe.

As Penny reached for the door k.n.o.b, her glance fell upon a long, narrow envelope which protruded from the tin mailbox. She removed it, wondering why the housekeeper had neglected to do so.

Mrs. Weems opened the door.

"Thank goodness, you're home at last, Penny. I fell asleep on the davenport. There isn't any word--"

"Not a sc.r.a.p of news," Penny completed.

Dropping the letter on the center table, she removed her wraps and flung herself full length on the davenport.

"You poor child!" Mrs. Weems murmured. "You're practically exhausted.

Please go straight to bed. I'll fix some warm milk and perhaps you can sleep."

"I don't feel as if I'd ever sleep again," Penny declared. "I'm tired, but I feel so excited and tense."

Mrs. Weems picked up the girl's coat and cap. Shaking them free of snow, she hung the garments in the closet.

"Did you have a bad time of it today?" Penny asked after a moment.

"It wasn't exactly pleasant," Mrs. Weems replied. "Reporters and photographers came from every paper in Riverview. The police too--although I was glad to have them. And the telephone! I counted twelve calls in an hour."

"You must be dead. You shouldn't have waited up for me."

"I wanted to, Penny. About an hour ago I thought I heard your step on the porch, but I was mistaken."

Penny sat up. "Haven't you had a caller during the last hour, Mrs.

Weems?"

"No, I've been alone."

"But I saw footprints on the porch! And I found this in the mailbox!"

Penny s.n.a.t.c.hed the long envelope from the table. Holding it beneath the bridge lamp, she noticed for the first time that it bore no stamp.

Strangely, it was addressed to her.