The Clock Strikes Thirteen

  CHAPTER 22 _THE MAN IN GRAY_

  With the door locked, the man saw that he could not hope to escape.Accepting the situation, he regarded Mr. Parker and Penny with colddisdain.

  "All right, my name is Ben Bowman," he acknowledged, shrugging. "Sowhat?"

  "You're the man who has been sending me collect messages for the pastthree months!" Mr. Parker accused.

  "And what if I have? Is there any law against it? You run a lousy paper,and as a reader I have a right to complain!"

  "But not at my expense. Another thing, I want to know what connectionyou've had with Clyde Blake."

  "Never heard of him."

  "Then you don't own property in this city?"

  "Nor anywhere else. Now if you're through giving me the third degree,I'll move on."

  "Not so fast," interposed Penny, refusing to unbar the door, "if I'm notmistaken you're the same man who is wanted at Claymore for forging acheque."

  "Really, this is too much!" Ben Bowman exclaimed angrily. "Unless youpermit me to pass, I shall protest to the police."

  "I see an officer just across the street," Mr. Parker declared. "Penny,will you call him over?"

  "Just a minute," Ben Bowman interposed in an altered tone. "We can settlethis ourselves. I'll admit I was hasty in sending those messages--just away to let off steam, I guess. If you're willing to forget about it I'llrepay you for every dollar you spent."

  "I'm afraid I can't forget that easily," Mr. Parker retorted. "No, unlessyou're willing to come clean about your connection with Clyde Blake I'llhave to call the police."

  "What do you want to know about him?"

  "Is he acting as your real estate agent?"

  "Certainly not."

  "You do know the man?"

  "I've done a little work for him."

  "Didn't he pay you to allow him to use your name on a deed?"

  "He gave me twenty-five dollars to make out some papers for him. I onlycopied what he told me to write."

  "That's all I want to know," Mr. Parker said grimly. "Penny, call thepoliceman!"

  "See here," Bowman protested furiously, "you intimated that if I toldwhat I knew about Blake you'd let me off. Why, you're as yellow as thatpaper you run!"

  "I make no deals with men of your stamp!" Mr. Parker retorted.

  As Penny unlocked the door, Ben Bowman made a break for freedom. However,the editor was entirely prepared. Seizing the man, he held him untilPenny could summon the policeman. Still struggling, Bowman was loadedinto a patrol wagon and taken to police headquarters.

  "I guess that earns me a nice little one hundred dollars!" Penny remarkedas she and her father went to their own car. "Thanks, Dad."

  "You're entirely welcome," Mr. Parker grinned. "I never took greaterpleasure in acknowledging a debt."

  "What's your next move, Dad? Will you expose Clyde Blake in tomorrow's_Star_?"

  "I'm tempted to do it, Penny. The evidence still is rather flimsy, buteven if Ben Bowman denies his story, I think we can prove our charges."

  "It's a pity you can't break the Hood yarn in the same edition," Pennysaid musingly. "What a front page that would make!"

  "It certainly would be a good three pennies worth," Mr. Parker agreed."Unfortunately, it will be many days before the Hoods are supposed tohold their meeting at the Tower."

  "But why wait? We could call that gathering ourselves!"

  "Just how?"

  "Simple as pie. All we would need to do would be to have the clock strikethirteen instead of twelve." Penny glanced at her wrist watch and addedpersuasively: "We have several hours in which to work!"

  "You're completely crazy!" accused Mr. Parker. "Just how would youarrange to have the clock strike thirteen?"

  "I'll take care of that part, Dad. All I'll need is a hammer."

  "To use on the caretaker, Charley Phelps, I suppose," Mr. Parker remarkedironically.

  "Oh, no," Penny corrected, "I propose to turn all the strong-arm workover to you and your gang of reporters. Naturally, Phelps will have to beremoved from the scene."

  "What you propose is absolutely impossible," the editor declared. "Evenso, I'll admit that I find your idea rather fascinating."

  "This is no time for being conservative, Dad. Why, the Hoods must knowyou are out to break up their organization. Every day you wait lessensyour chance of getting the story."

  "I realize that only too well, Penny. I pinned quite a bit of hope onClem Davis. His failure to appear puts everything in a different light."

  "Why not test what he told us?" Penny argued. "It will be easy to learnif the striking of the clock is a signal to call the Hood meeting. If themen should come, we'll have them arrested, and run a big story tomorrowmorning!"

  "Coming from your lips it sounds so very simple," Mr. Parker smiled. "Hasit occurred to you that if we fail, we'll probably breakfast at thepolice station?"

  "Why worry about that?" grinned Penny. "You have influence."

  Mr. Parker sat for several minutes lost in thought.

  "You know, I've ALWAYS been lucky," Penny coaxed. "I feel a double doseof it coming on tonight!"

  "I believe in hunches myself," Mr. Parker chuckled. "No doubt I'm makingthe biggest mistake of my life, but I'm going to try your wild scheme.Crazy as it is, it may work!"

  "Then let's go!" laughed Penny.

  At the _Star_ office, Mr. Parker hastily summoned a special staff ofnewspaper men, warning them to hold themselves in readiness to get out aspecial edition on short notice. From the group he chose Salt Sommers,Jerry Livingston, and two reporters known for their pugilistic prowess.

  "Now this is the line up, boys," he revealed. "We're going to kidnapCharley Phelps from the Tower. It's risky business unless things breakright for us, so if any of you want to drop out now, this is yourchance."

  "We're with you, chief!" declared Salt Sommers, tossing a pack ofphotographic supplies over his shoulder.

  "Sure, what are we waiting for?" chimed in Jerry.

  It was well after eleven o'clock by the time the over-loaded press cardrew up not far from the Hubell Tower. Penny parked on a dark sidestreet, and Jerry was sent to look over the situation. Soon he returnedwith his report.

  "Charley Phelps is alone in the Tower," he assured the editor. "Weshouldn't have any trouble handling him."

  "Okay, then let's do the job," Mr. Parker returned. "Remember, if we muffit, we'll do our explaining to a judge."

  Separating into groups so that they would not attract attention, Pennyand the five men approached the Tower. A light glowed from within, andthe caretaker could be seen moving about in the tiny living room.

  Tying handkerchiefs over their faces, Salt and Jerry rapped on the backdoor. Charley Phelps opened it to find himself gazing into the blindinglight of two flashlights.

  "Say, what--" he began but did not finish.

  Jerry and Salt had seized his arms. Before he could make another sound,they shoved a gag into his mouth, and dragging him into the Tower, closedthe door. Working swiftly, they trussed his hands and feet and pushed himinto a machinery room.

  "Nice work, boys," Mr. Parker praised.

  "Listen!" whispered Penny, who had followed the men into the Tower.

  The clock had begun to strike the hour of midnight.

  "Get up there quickly and do your stuff!" her father commanded. "You'venot much time!"

  Two steps at a time, Penny raced up the steep iron stairway which led tothe belfry of the Tower. Anxiously, she counted the strokes as theypealed forth loud and clearly. Eight--nine--ten. The clock had neverseemed to strike so fast before. Desperately she wondered if she couldreach the belfry in time.

  The stairway was dark, the footing uncertain. In her nervousness, Pennystumbled. Clutching the handrail, she clung to it a moment until she hadrecovered balance. But in that interval the clock had kept striking, andshe was no longer sure of the count.

  "It must be eleven,
" she thought, running up the remaining steps. "Thenext stroke will be the last."

  Penny reached the great bell just as the clapper struck against themetal. The sound was deafening.

  "Now!" she thought excitedly. "This is the moment, and I dare not fail!"

  Balancing herself precariously, Penny raised a hammer high above herhead. With all her strength she brought it down hard against the bell.