The Clock Strikes Thirteen

  CHAPTER 3 _A BLACK HOOD_

  "Good Evening, Sheriff," Mr. Parker said evenly as he recognized theheavy-set man who stepped from a county automobile. "I'm afraid you'vemistaken me for someone else this time."

  Sheriff Daniels put away his revolver and moved into the beam of light.

  "Sorry," he apologized. "Thought you might be Clem Davis, and I wasn'ttaking any chances. You're Parker of the _Riverview Star_?"

  "That's right," agreed the editor, "Looking for Clem Davis?"

  "I'm here to question him. I'm investigating a fire which was set at thePreston place."

  "You're a fast worker, Sheriff," Mr. Parker remarked. "My daughter and Ijust left the Preston farm, and we didn't see you there. What put you onDavis' trail?"

  "Our officer received an anonymous telephone call from a woman. Shereported the fire and said that I'd find my man here."

  "Could it have been Mrs. Preston who notified you?" Mr. Parker inquiredthoughtfully.

  "It wasn't Mrs. Preston," answered the sheriff. "I traced the call to theRiverview exchange. Thought it must be the trick of a crank until ouroffice got a report that a fire actually had been set at the Prestonfarm. By the way, what are you doing around here, Parker?"

  "Oh, just prowling," the editor replied, and explained briefly how he andPenny had chanced to be at the scene of the fire.

  "If you followed a horseman to this lane there may be something to thatanonymous telephone call," the sheriff declared. "I'll look around, andthen have a talk with Davis."

  "Mind if we accompany you?" inquired Mr. Parker.

  "Come along," the sheriff invited.

  Penny was hard pressed to keep step with the two men as they strode downthe muddy lane. A light glowed in the window of the cabin, and a womancould be seen sitting at a table. The sheriff, however, circled thehouse. Following the trail of hoof marks he went directly to the stable,quietly opening the double doors.

  Once inside, Sheriff Daniels switched on a flashlight. The bright beamrevealed six stalls, all empty save one, in which stood a handsome blackmare who tugged restlessly at her tether. Her body was covered withsweat, and she shivered.

  "This horse has been ridden hard," the sheriff observed, reaching tothrow a blanket over her.

  "Here's something interesting," commented Mr. Parker. Stooping, he pickedup a dark piece of cloth lying in plain view on the cement floor. It hadbeen sewed in the shape of a headgear, with eye holes cut in the frontside.

  "A black hood!" Penny shouted in awe.

  Sheriff Daniels took the cloth from the editor, examining it closely butsaying very little.

  "Ever hear of any night riders in this community?" Mr. Parker asked aftera moment, his tone casual.

  "Never did," the sheriff replied emphatically. "And I sure hope such astory doesn't get started."

  Mr. Parker fingered the black mask. "All the same, Sheriff, you can'tjust laugh off a thing like this. Even if the November elections aren'tfar away--"

  "I'm not worried about my job," the other broke in. "So far as I knowthere's no underground organization in this county. All this mask provesis that Clem Davis may be the man who set the Preston fire."

  The officer turned to leave the stable. Before he could reach the exit,the double doors slowly opened. A woman, who carried a lighted lantern,peered inside.

  "Who's there?" she called in a loud voice.

  "Sheriff Daniels, ma'am," the officer answered. "You needn't be afraid."

  "Who said anything about bein' afraid?" the woman belligerently retorted.

  Coming into the stable, she gazed with undisguised suspicion from oneperson to another. She was noticeably thin, slightly stooped and therewas a hard set to her jaw.

  "You're Mrs. Davis?" the sheriff inquired, and as she nodded, he asked:"Clem around here?"

  "No, he ain't," she answered defiantly. "What you wanting him foranyhow?"

  "Oh, just to ask a few questions. Where is your husband, Mrs. Davis?"

  "He went to town early and ain't been back. What you aimin' to lay ontohim, Sheriff?"

  "If your husband hasn't been here since early evening, who has riddenthis horse?" the sheriff demanded, ignoring the question.

  Mrs. Davis' gaze roved to the stall where the black mare noisily crunchedan ear of corn.

  "Why Sal _has_ been rid!" she exclaimed as if genuinely surprised. "Butnot by Clem. He went to town in the flivver, and he ain't been back."

  "Sorry, but I'll have to take a look in the house."

  "Search it from cellar to attic!" the woman said angrily. "You won't findClem! What's he wanted for anyway?"

  "The Preston barn was set afire tonight, and your husband is a suspect."

  "Clem never did it! Why, the Prestons are good friends of ours!Somebody's just tryin' to make a peck o' trouble for us."

  "That may be," the sheriff admitted. "You say Clem hasn't been heretonight. In that case, who rode the mare?"

  "I don't know anything about it," the woman maintained sullenly.

  "Didn't you hear a horse come into the yard?"

  "I never heard a sound until your car stopped at the entrance to thelane."

  "I suppose you never saw this before either." The sheriff held up theblack hood which had been found in the barn.

  Mrs. Davis stared blankly at the cloth. "I tell you, I don't know nothin'about it, Sheriff. You ain't being fair if you try to hang that fire ontoClem. And you won't find him hidin' in the house."

  "If your husband isn't here, I'll wait until he comes."

  "You may have a long wait, Sheriff," the woman retorted, her lips partingin a twisted smile. "You can come in though and look around."

  Not caring to follow the sheriff into the house, Penny and her fatherbade him goodbye a moment later. Tramping down the lane to their parkedcar, they both expressed the belief that Clem Davis would not be arrestedduring the night.

  "Obviously, the woman knows a lot more than she's willing to tell," Mr.Parker remarked, sliding into the car seat beside Penny.

  "Dad, do you think it was Clem who set fire to the Preston barn?"

  "We have no reason to suspect anyone else," returned the editor. "All theevidence points to his guilt."

  Penny backed the car in the narrow road, heading toward Riverview.

  "That was the point I wanted to make," she said thoughtfully. "Doesn't itseem to you that the evidence was almost too plain?"

  "What do you mean, Penny?"

  "Well, I was just thinking, if I had been in Clem Davis' place, I neverwould have left a black hood lying where the first person to enter thebarn would be sure to see it."

  "That's so, it was a bit obvious," Mr. Parker admitted.

  "The horse was left in the stable, and the hoof tracks leading to theDavis place were easy to follow."

  "All true," Mr. Parker nodded.

  "Isn't it possible that someone could have tried to throw the blame onClem?" suggested Penny, anxiously awaiting her father's reply.

  "There may be something to the theory," Mr. Parker responded. "Still,Mrs. Davis didn't deny that the mare belonged to her husband. She claimedthat she hadn't heard the horse come into the stable, which obviously wasa lie. Furthermore, I gathered the impression that Clem knew the sheriffwas after him, and intends to hide out."

  "It will be interesting to learn if Mr. Daniels makes an arrest. Do youexpect to print anything about it in the paper?"

  "Only routine news of the fire," Mr. Parker replied. "There may be muchmore to this little incident than appears on the surface, but untilsomething develops, we must wait."

  "If you could gain proof that night riders are operating in thiscommunity, what then?" Penny suggested eagerly.

  "In that case, I should certainly launch a vigorous campaign. But why gointo all the details now? I'm sure I'll not assign you to the story."

  "Why not?" Penny asked in an injured tone. "I think night riders would be
especially suited to my journalistic talents. I could gather informationabout Clem Davis and the Prestons--"

  "This is Sheriff Daniel's baby, and we'll let him take care of it for thetime being," Mr. Parker interrupted. "Why not devote yourself to thegreat mystery of the Hubell clock? That should provide a safe outlook foryour energies."

  The car was drawing close to Riverview. As it approached the tall stonetower, Penny raised her eyes to the dark windows. Just then the big clockstruck twice.

  "Two o'clock," Mr. Parker observed, taking a quick glance at his watch."Or would you say three?"

  "There's no argument about it this time, Dad. All the same, I intend toprove to you that I was right!"

  "How?" her father asked, covering a wide yawn.

  "I don't know," Penny admitted, favoring the grim tower with a darkscowl. "But just you wait--I'll find a way!"