The Clock Strikes Thirteen Part 10

"I found it lying on the barn floor, not far from the place where we picked up the black hood last night."

"Then it must belong to Clem Davis!"

"It may," Penny admitted, sliding into the seat beside her chum. "Still, I don't believe the Davis' have any children."

"What will you do with the charm? Turn it over to the sheriff?"

"I suppose I should, after I've shown it to Dad," Penny replied, carefully tying the trinket into the corner of a handkerchief. "You know, Lou, since finding this, I wonder if Mrs. Davis may not have told the truth."

"About what, Penny?"

"She said that her husband had been framed."

"Then you think this watch charm was left in the barn to throw suspicion upon Clem Davis!"

Penny shook her head. "No, this is my theory, Louise. Perhaps someone hid the black hood there, and rode Clem's horse to make it appear he was the guilty person. Inadvertently, that same person lost this watch charm."

"In that case, you would have a clue which might solve the case."

"Exactly," Penny grinned in triumph. "Get ready for a fast ride into town. I'm going to rush this evidence straight to the _Star_ office and get Dad's opinion."

CHAPTER 7 _MR. BLAKE'S DONATION_

Not wis.h.i.+ng to ride to the _Star_ building, Louise asked her chum to drop her off at the Sidell home. Accordingly, Penny left her there, and then drove on alone to her father's office. The news room hummed with activity as she sauntered through to the private office.

"Just a minute, please," her father requested, waving her into a chair.

He completed a letter he was dictating, dismissed his secretary, and then was ready to listen. Without preliminary ado, Penny laid the watch charm on the desk, explaining where she had found it.

"Dad, this may belong to Clem Davis, but I don't think so!" she announced in an excited voice. "It's my theory that the person who planted the black hood in the stable must have lost it!"

Mr. Parker examined the charm carefully, gazing at the picture of the little boy contained within it.

"Very interesting," he commented. "However, I fear you are allowing your imagination to take you for a ride. There isn't much question of Clem Davis' guilt according to the findings of the sheriff."

"Has any new evidence come to light, Dad?"

"Yes, Penny, the sheriff's office has gained possession of a doc.u.ment showing beyond question that Clem Davis is a member of a renegade band known as the Black Hoods."

"Where did they get their proof?"

"Sheriff Davis won't disclose the source of his information. However, our star reporter, Jerry Livingston, is working on the case, and something may develop any hour."

"Then you're intending to make it into a big story?" Penny asked thoughtfully.

"I am. An underground, subversive organization, no matter what its purpose, has no right to an existence. The _Star_ will expose the leaders, if possible, and break up the group."

"Since the Hoods apparently burned the Preston storage barn, their purpose can't be a very n.o.ble one," Penny commented. "Nor are their leaders especially clever. The trail led as plain as day to Clem Davis--so straight, in fact, that I couldn't help doubting his guilt."

"Penny, I'll keep this watch charm, if you don't mind," Mr. Parker said, locking the trinket into a drawer. "I'll put Jerry to work on it and he may be able to learn the ident.i.ty of the little boy in the picture."

Abruptly changing the subject, the editor inquired regarding his daughter's success in selling Camp-Benefit tags.

"I have only one left," Penny replied, presenting it with a flourish.

"Twenty-five cents, please."

"The cause is a worthy one. I'll double the amount." Amiably, Mr. Parker flipped a half dollar across the desk.

"While you're in a giving mood I might mention that my allowance is due,"

Penny said with a grin. "Also, you owe me five gallons of gasoline. I saw old Seth McGuire this morning and he agreed with me that the Hubell clock struck thirteen last night."

Mr. Parker had no opportunity to reply, for just then his secretary re-entered the office to say that Mr. Clyde Blake wished to see him.

"I suppose that means you want me to evaporate," Penny remarked, gazing questioningly at her father.

"No, stay if you like. It's probably nothing of consequence."

Penny welcomed an invitation to remain. After her talk with Seth McGuire she was curious to see the man who had caused the old bell maker to lose his position at the Hubell Tower.

"Blake probably wants to ask me to do him a personal favor," Mr. Parker confided in a low tone. "He's a pest!"

In a moment the door opened again to admit the real estate man. He was heavy-set, immaculately dressed, and the only defect in his appearance was caused by a right arm which was somewhat shorter than the left.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Parker," he said expansively. "And is this your charming daughter?"

The editor introduced Penny, who bowed politely and retreated to a chair by the window. Prejudiced against Mr. Blake, she had no desire to talk to him.

"What may I do for you?" Mr. Parker asked the caller.

"Ah, this time it is I who shall bestow the favor," Mr. Blake responded, taking a cheque book from his pocket. "Your paper has been campaigning for a very worthy cause, namely the Orphans' Summer Camp Fund. It wrings my heart that those unfortunate kiddies have been denied the benefit of fresh air and suns.h.i.+ne."

"If you wish to make a donation, you should give your money to Mrs. Van Cleve," the editor cut him short.

"I much prefer to present my cheque to you," the caller insisted. "Shall I make it out for a hundred and fifty dollars?"

"That's a very handsome donation," said Mr. Parker, unable to hide his surprise. "But why give it to me?"

Mr. Blake coughed in embarra.s.sment. "I thought you might deem the offering worthy of a brief mention in your paper."

"Oh, I see," the editor responded dryly.

"I don't wish publicity for myself, you understand, but only for the real estate company which bears my name."

"I quite understand, Mr. Blake. If we should use your picture--"