Behind the Green Door Part 14

Mrs. Downey had told her that she would be able to get the newspapers at the Pine Top Cafe where a boy named Benny Smith had an agency.

Entering the restaurant, she glanced about but saw no one who was selling papers. Finally, she ventured to ask the proprietor if she had come to the right place.

"This is the right place," he agreed cheerfully. "Benny went home a little while ago."

"Then how do I get the papers for Mrs. Downey's lodge?"

"Guess you're out of luck," he replied. "They didn't come in today."

"But I saw the plane."

"The plane got through all right. I don't know what was wrong. Somehow the papers weren't put aboard."

Penny turned away in disappointment. She had made the long trip to the village for no purpose. While she did not mind for herself, she knew that Mr. Gla.s.ser and the other guests were likely to be annoyed. After a day of confinement indoors they looked forward to news from the outside world.

"It's strange the papers didn't come," she mused as she started back to the Downey lodge. "This isn't the first time they've failed to arrive either."

Penny climbed steadily for a time and then sat down on a log to rest a moment. She was not far from the Jasko cabin. By making her own trail through the woods she could reach it in a very few minutes.

A mischievous idea leaped into her mind, fairly teasing to be put into effect. What fun to climb the forbidden barbed wire fence and honeycomb Mr. Jasko's field with ski tracks! She could visualize his annoyance when he returned home to learn that a mysterious skier had paid him a visit.

"He oughtn't to be so mean," she said aloud to justify herself. "It will serve him right for trying to frighten folks with shotguns!"

Penny fastened on her skis and glided off through the woods. She kept her directions straight and soon emerged into a clearing to find herself in view of the Jasko cabin. Drawing near the barbed wire fence she stopped short and stared.

"Why, that old scamp! He really did it!"

A new strand of wire had been added to the fence, making it many inches higher. Penny's suggestion, offered as a joke, had been acted upon by Peter Jasko. Not even an expert ski jumper could hope to clear the improved barrier. Any person who came unwittingly down the steep slope must take a disastrous tumble at the base of the fence.

"This settles it," thought Penny grimly. "My conscience is perfectly clear now."

She rolled under the fence and surveyed the unblemished expanse of snowy field with the eye of a mechanical draftsman.

"I may as well be honest about it and sign my name," she chuckled.

Starting in at the far corner of the field she made a huge double-edged "P" with her long runners. It took a little ingenuity to figure out an "E" but two "N's" were fairly easy to execute. She finished "Y" off with a flourish and c.o.c.ked her head sideways to view her handiwork.

"Not bad, not bad at all," she congratulated herself. "Only I've used up too much s.p.a.ce. We'll have to have a big Penny and a little Parker."

She ran off a "P" and an "A" but even her limber body was not equal to the contortion required for an "R." In the process of making a neat curve she suddenly lost her balance and toppled over in an ungainly heap.

"Oh, now I've done it!" she moaned, slowly picking herself up. "All my wonderful artistry gone for nothing. 'Parker' looks like a big smudge!"

A sound, suspiciously suggesting a m.u.f.fled shout of laughter, reached Penny's ears. She glanced quickly about. No one was in sight. The windows of the cabin were deserted.

"I think I'll be getting out of here," she decided. "If Old Whiskers should come back this wouldn't be a healthy place to practice handwriting."

Penny dug in her poles and glided toward the fence. In the act of rolling under the barbed wires, she suddenly froze motionless. She had heard a cry and this time there was no doubt in her mind as to the direction from which the sound had come. Her startled gaze focused upon the cabin amid the trees.

"Help! Help!" called a shrill, half m.u.f.fled voice. "Come back, and let me out of my prison!"

CHAPTER 10 _LOCKED IN THE CABIN_

Penny hesitated, and as the call was repeated, went slowly back toward the cabin. She could see no one.

"Up here!" shouted the voice.

Glancing toward the second story windows, Penny saw a girl standing there, her face pressed to the pane.

"Peter Jasko's granddaughter!" thought Penny. "And she must have seen me decorating the place with ski tracks."

However, the other girl was only concerned with her own predicament. She smiled and motioned for Penny to come directly under the window.

"Can you help me get out of here?" she called down.

"You're not locked in?" inquired Penny in astonishment.

"I certainly am! My grandfather did it. He fastened the door of the loft."

"How long have you been there?"

"Oh, not very long," the girl answered impatiently, "but I'm sick of it!

Will you help me out of here?"

"How?"

"Grandfather always hides the key to the outside door in the woodshed. It should be hanging on a nail by the window."

Penny hardly knew what to do. It was one thing to annoy Peter Jas...o...b.. making a few ski tracks in his yard, but quite another to antagonize him in more serious ways. For all she could tell, he might have locked the girl in the cabin as a punishment for some wrongdoing.

"Does your grandfather often leave you like this?" she asked dubiously.

"Always when there's snow on the ground," came the surprising answer.

"Oh, please let me out of this hateful place! Don't be such a goody-good!"

To be accused of being a "goody-good" was a novel experience for Penny.

But instead of taking offense she laughed and started toward the woodshed.

"On a nail by the window!" the girl shouted after her. "If it isn't there look on the shelf by the door."

Penny found the key and came back. Taking off her c.u.mbersome skis, she unlocked the front door and stepped inside the cabin. The room was rather cold for the fire had nearly gone out. Despite a bareness of furniture, the place had a comfortable appearance. Snowshoes decorated the walls along with a deer head and an out-dated calendar. There was a cook stove, a homemade table, chairs, and a cot.

"Do hurry up!" called the impatient voice from above. "Climb the steps."

At the far end of the room a rickety, crudely constructed ladder ascended to a rectangular trap door in the ceiling. Mounting it, Penny investigated the fastening, a stout plug of wood. She turned it and pushed up the heavy door. Instantly, it was seized from above and pulled out of the way.