Chapter 4 No.4

A Face at the Window

The little room on the top floor of the hotel was as hot and unpleasant as Mr. Nichols had predicted. Even with all the windows open wide the air still seemed close.

"Rosanna, I shouldn't have forced you into this," Penny said apologetically.

"I've slept in far worse places than this," Rosanna laughed. "We have a comfortable bed and a private bath. I didn't fare half so well at Mrs. Bridges."

"You're a good sport anyway, Rosanna. That's more than could be said for Mrs. Leeds or her daughter."

"I wonder how old the girl is? She looked about our age."

"I'd guess she was two or three years older," Penny returned. "She had so much paint on it was hard to tell."

Both girls were tired from the long day's drive. Rosanna immediately began to undress. Penny sat on the edge of the bed, thoughtfully staring into space.

"Did it strike you as queer the way Mrs. Leeds acted when I mentioned we were going to Raven Ridge tomorrow?" she questioned her companion.

Rosanna kicked off her slippers before replying.

"Well, come to think of it, she did look a little startled. She put on such a scene downstairs that I didn't pay much attention."

"We'll probably never see her again." With a shrug of her slim shoulders Penny arose and began to unpack her overnight bag.

According to the plan which they had worked out with Mr. Nichols, the girls expected to leave for Raven Ridge the next morning directly after breakfast. It was their intention to motor to the mountain resort, inspect the Winters' property and see if they could learn anything concerning Rosanna's uncle. They intended to return either the next night or the one following.

Few guests were abroad when the detective joined the girls at breakfast. It was only a little after seven o'clock.

"Sleep well?" he inquired, looking over the menu.

"Not very," Penny admitted truthfully. She might have added more had not Mrs. Leeds and her daughter entered the dining room at that moment. The two bowed slightly and selected a table in the opposite corner of the room.

"Social climbers," Mr. Nichols said in an undertone. "I can tell their type a mile away."

Breakfast finished, the girls prepared to leave for Raven Ridge. Their bags were already packed and downstairs.

"Now drive cautiously over the mountain roads," the detective warned as he accompanied the girls to the waiting car. "If you can't get back by evening send me a wire."

As Penny took her place at the steering wheel she observed that Mrs. Leeds' automobile had been brought to the hotel entrance by an attendant. Apparently, she too was making an early morning departure.

"You're not listening to a word I am saying!" Mr. Nichols said severely.

"Yes, I am." Penny's attention came back to the conversation. "I'll drive carefully and deliver your precious car back to you without a scratch."

"I wasn't exactly worried about the car."

"Well, there's no need to be uneasy about Rosanna or me. We'll have no trouble."

With a laugh of careless confidence, Penny started the car and drove slowly away. It was not the first time she had driven over mountainous roads. She handled the wheel exceptionally well and used due caution on all of the sharp curves. The brakes were good but she dared not apply them too steadily on the steep inclines.

"We'll have to rush if we get back to Mt. Ashland this evening," Penny announced, slowing down to read a signpost. "I declare, a mountain mile seems to be three times the length of an ordinary mile."

They had gone only a short distance farther when a tire went down. Penny knew it instantly by the feel of the steering wheel. She pulled off at the side of the road.

"Now we are in it," she said in deep disgust. "At least ten miles from a garage. I can change wheels on my own car, but I doubt if I can on Dad's automobile."

The girls waited for a few minutes hoping that someone would come along to help. When no one did, Penny dragged out the tools, and after considerable trouble succeeded in jacking up the rear axle.

"I see a car coming," Rosanna reported hopefully.

"Let's flag it," Penny suggested. "I could do with a little masculine help."

In response to her signal of distress, the approaching automobile slowed down. The driver was a man and there were no passengers.

"He's stopping," Penny said in relief.

There was a screech of brakes as the automobile came almost to a standstill. Then surprisingly, it speeded up again. But not before Penny had caught a fleeting glimpse of the driver's face.

"Well, of all things!" Rosanna exclaimed indignantly. "I call that a mean trick."

"I believe he was afraid to stop," Penny announced excitedly. "I think I recognized him. It was the same man who stole the ring from Bresham's Department Store!"

"Are you sure?" Rosanna demanded incredulously.

"I couldn't be absolutely certain, of course. He was traveling too fast for me to catch more than a passing glimpse of his face. But if he didn't recognize us, why did he slow down and then speed up?"

"He did act suspiciously. But what can we do about it?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid. We may as well devote our energies to this wheel."

Rosanna was more than eager to help but she had never even seen a tire changed and had no idea how to go about it. After a little annoying experimentation, Penny got the wheel in place and tightened the lugs.

"There, it's done," she said in relief, "but my dress is a mess. I'm afraid we'll have to stop at the first garage and have the old wheel fixed, for I don't carry another spare."

A signpost at the next bend in the road advised them that Simpson's Garage was located only six miles away. They made it in a few minutes. There was no town, only a post office, one general store, and the garage which obviously was a remodeled blacksmith shop.

"I'm glad it's nothing more than a tire which needs repairing," Penny commented as the garageman came to learn what they wanted.

He promised that the tire would be ready in half an hour. Glancing at her wrist watch, Penny saw that it was already past lunch time. She inquired if there was a cafe nearby.

"Not in Hamilton, there ain't," the garageman told her. "Ma Stevens, across the street in the big white house, serves meals to tourists now and then."

Rather than spend an unpleasant half hour in the garage, the girls walked over to the rambling white house. They were reassured to see that the yard was well kept and that everything appeared orderly and clean.

"Let's take a chance on the food," Penny decided. "I'm hungry enough to eat a fried board!"

Mrs. Stevens, a motherly looking woman in a blue checked gingham dress, opened the door. She looked slightly troubled at their request for food.

"It's later than I usually serve," she explained. Then noticing their disappointed faces, she added hastily: "But if you're not too particular, I can find you something."

The "something" consisted of a generous platter of mountain trout, fresh from the stream and fried to a golden brown, French fried potatoes, a salad, and cherry pie.

"Dear me, after such a meal, we may not be able to get to Raven Ridge," Penny remarked, finishing her second piece of pie. "I never ate so much in my life."

"Did you say you were going to Raven Ridge?" Mrs. Stevens inquired.

"Yes, we're waiting now to have a tire patched."

"You're the second party through here today that's heading for Raven Ridge," Mrs. Stevens informed. "A man stopped for lunch about an hour ago. Only he thought it wasn't cooked well enough for him."

"He must have been particular," Penny commented. "What did he look like?"

"He was tall and dark and he had a sharp way of watching one."

"I wonder if it could have been that man who passed us on the road?" Penny mused. "Was he driving a gray coupé?"

"Yes, I believe he was."

Penny was convinced that the man Mrs. Stevens described was the same person who had declined to help her on the road. She wondered what business took him to Raven Ridge. Could she have been mistaken in believing him to be the thief who had stolen the diamond ring?

Paying for the luncheon, the girls went back to the garage. The tire was ready for them. Soon they were on their way again.

They had driven for perhaps an hour when Penny observed that the road seemed to be leading them out of the mountains. She began to wonder if they had taken a wrong turn. She stopped at the next filling station to inquire. To her dismay, she was told that she had traveled nearly twenty miles out of her way.

"I thought this didn't seem like the right road," Penny declared ruefully to her companion. "Now we'll be lucky to get to Raven Ridge by dinner time, to say nothing of returning to Mt. Ashland tonight."

"I've put you to a great deal of trouble," Rosanna said regretfully.

"Not at all. This trip to Raven Ridge is an adventure, and I like it. It will be more fun to stay over night anyway."

An occasional road marker reassured the girls that at last they were on the right highway. The mountain curves were sharp, and Penny did not make as good time as she had anticipated. She became a little alarmed to see that storm clouds were rapidly gathering.

"It looks as if we may have rain," Rosanna commented.

"A great deal of it, I'd judge. Those clouds are black as ink."

In less than half an hour the storm struck them in full force. A great gust of wind dashed huge drops of water against the windshield, there was a vivid flash of lightning, then the rain came down in steady sheets.

Even with the wiper going Penny could see only a few feet ahead of the windshield. She pulled up under a huge oak tree at the side of the road. The girls waited a quarter of an hour and still the rain fell in torrents. At length, however, it slackened slightly, and not wishing to lose any more time, Penny cautiously drove on.

"It can't last much longer," Rosanna said optimistically.

Despite her hopeful words, the rain showed no sign of stopping. Penny reconciled herself to a slow pace for the remainder of the journey. She was beginning to grow tired. Her back and arms ached and it was a strain to keep such close watch of the road.

With the sun hidden from view, night came on early. Nervous at the thought of driving over unfamiliar mountain roads after dark, the girls did not stop for dinner. Nine o'clock, in a pouring rain, found them drawn up at a filling station to inquire how much farther it was to Raven Ridge.

"Why, you're practically there now," the attendant informed. "What place are you looking for?"

"The Jacob Winters' estate," Penny replied.

"Then keep on this road for about two miles more. When you come to the top of the ridge, take the gravel road to the left. It will lead you to the house. There's no one there though, unless maybe a caretaker."

"Oh," Penny murmured, "then perhaps you can direct us to a place where we can spend the night."

"The nearest is at the town of Andover, five miles beyond the Winters' place."

The girls thanked the man for his assistance, and once more followed the winding road up the mountainside.

"Shall we go on to Andover or stop at the Winters' house?" Penny asked her companion.

"I don't know what to do," Rosanna faltered. "We're both so tired."

"The place surely must have a caretaker, Rosanna. Let's take a chance and stop."

At the top of the ridge they watched for the gravel road and were elated to find it. The entrance was barred by a white gate. Rosanna stepped out in the rain to open it.

"This may have been a foolish thing to do," Penny admitted as they drove between tall rows of whispering pines. "We could have gone on to Andover only I dreaded driving down the mountainside with slippery roads."

Rosanna huddled closer to her friend. The road was dark and the rustling of the wind in the pine needles made her uneasy.

Soon they came within view of the house. It was built of native stone, half hidden by the luxuriant growth of shrubbery and trees which surrounded it. No lights gleamed in the windows.

"There's no one here," Rosanna declared.

"Let's knock anyway. The caretaker may be at the rear somewhere."

They parked the car as close to the front door as possible and made a dash for the porch. Penny knocked several times on the massive door but there was no response.

"We might try your key, Rosanna," she proposed. "If it fits I'll begin to think there's something to that mysterious letter you received."

Rosanna groped in her pocketbook for the key. Impatient for action, Penny turned the handle of the door. To her astonishment the latch clicked.

"Why, the door is already unlocked, Rosanna!"

"But of course we won't dare go in."

"Why not?"

"Well, it doesn't seem right. The people may not be at home."

"Someone must be around or the door wouldn't be unlocked. Besides, you have a key, Rosanna. And according to the letter, this is your inheritance."

Penny swung wide the door. She peered inside but could see nothing. Her hand groped for the electric switch. She found the button by the door and pressed it. Instantly everything was flooded with light.

The girls found themselves in a long, narrow living room. The ceiling was beamed, the furniture was rustic, and a great fireplace occupied one end of the wall.

Penny crossed over to the hearth. There was no fire but logs were in readiness to make one.

"I don't feel right about coming in here," Rosanna said nervously.

"Nonsense, if it's your property you're not trespassing," Penny insisted. "Besides, it looks to me as if you were expected, for everything seems in readiness for guests. I'm going to build a fire and see if I can't thaw out my chilled bones."

Reluctantly, Rosanna went to help her. Soon they had a roaring fire in the hearth. As they grew more comfortable they took more interest in their surroundings. The room was plainly but expensively furnished. Curious objects from many lands occupied the tables and bric-a-brac shelves.

"Your uncle must have lived an interesting life," Penny commented, picking up a tiny ivory box from a nearby stand.

"Yes, Mother often told me--"

Rosanna's voice broke in the midst of the sentence. Turning, Penny saw that her friend's eyes were fastened upon the window. All color had drained from Rosanna's face. Her eyes were dilated with fear.

"What is it?" Penny demanded.

Rosanna clutched her hand.

"I saw someone just then," she whispered. "A man's face at the window!"