The Clock Strikes Thirteen

  CHAPTER 5 _OLD SETH_

  "Well, Penny, you certainly drew lightning that time," Louise remarkeddryly as the girls retreated to Leaping Lena. "I thought Mr. Phelps wasgoing to throw the tower at you!"

  "How could I know he was so touchy?" Penny asked in a grieved tone.

  "You did talk as if you thought he had been careless in taking care ofthe big clock."

  "I never meant it that way, Lou. Anyway, he could have been more polite."

  Jerking open the car door, Penny slid behind the steering wheel andjammed her foot on the starter. Leaping Lena, apparently realizing thather young mistress was in no mood for trifling, responded withinstantaneous action.

  "I guess you're satisfied now that the clock never struck thirteen,"Louise teased as the car fairly leaped forward.

  "I should say not!" Penny retorted. "Why, I'm more convinced than everthat something went wrong with the mechanism last night. Phelps knew ittoo, and for that reason didn't want us asking questions!"

  "You die hard, Penny," chuckled Louise. "From now on, I suppose you'll goaround asking everyone you meet: 'Where were you at midnight of thethirteenth?'"

  "It wouldn't do any good. Most folks just take things for granted in thisworld. But there's one person who would pay attention to that clock!"

  "Who?"

  "Why, old Seth McGuire. We'll drive out to his farm and ask him aboutit."

  "It's lunch time and I'm hungry," Louise protested.

  "Oh, you can spend the rest of your life eating," Penny overruled her."Business before pleasure, you know."

  Seth McGuire, one of Riverview's best known and well loved characters,had been caretaker at the Hubell Clock Tower from the day of itserection, and the girls could not but wonder why he had been relieved ofhis post. The old man had personally installed the complicated machinery,caring for it faithfully over the years. In fact, his only other interestin life was his farm, located a mile from the city limits, and it wasthere that Penny hoped to find him.

  "Watch for a sign, 'Sleepy Hollow,'" she instructed. "Mr. McGuire hasgiven his place a fancy name."

  A moment later Louise, seeing the marker, cried: "There it is! Slowdown!"

  Penny slammed on the brakes and Leaping Lena responded by shivering inevery one of her ancient joints. Louise was thrown forward, barelycatching herself in time to prevent a collision with the windshield.

  "Why don't you join a stunt circus?" she said irritably. "You drive likeDemon Dan!"

  "We're here," replied Penny cheerfully. "Nice looking place, isn't it?"

  The car had pulled up near a small, neatly-kept cottage framed inwell-trimmed greenery. An even, rich green lawn was highlighted here andthere by beds of bright red and blue flowers.

  After admiring the grounds, the girls rang the front bell. Receiving noresponse, they went around to the rear, pounding on the kitchen screendoor.

  "Mr. McGuire's not here," said Louise. "Just another wild goose chase."

  "Let's try this out-building," Penny suggested, indicating a long, lowstructure made of cement building blocks which was roofed with tin. Asign dangling above the door proclaimed that it was the foundry andmachine shop of one Seth McGuire, maker of bells and clocks.

  As the girls peered through the open door an arresting sight met theirgaze. Through clouds of smoke they saw a spry old man directing themovements of a muscular youth who pulled a large pot-shaped crucible ofmolten metal on an overhead pulley track.

  "Are you Seth McGuire?" Penny shouted to make herself heard above thenoise of running machinery.

  The old man, turning his head, waved them back.

  "Don't come in here now!" he warned. "It's dangerous. Wait until we pourthe bell."

  With deft, sure hands, the old fellow pulled control chains attached tothe crucible. The container twisted and finally overturned, allowing themolten metal to pour into a bell-shaped mold. As the last drops ran outof it, a great cloud of steam arose, enveloping both the old man and hishelper.

  "Won't they be burned?" Louise murmured in alarm, moving hastilybackwards.

  "Mr. McGuire seems to know what he's doing," Penny answered, watchingwith interest.

  In a moment the steam cleared away, and the old man motioned that thegirls might come inside.

  "You'll have to excuse my manners," he apologized, his mild blue eyesregarding them with a twinkle. "Pouring a bell is exacting work and youcan't stop until it's done."

  "Is that what you were doing?" Penny inquired, staring at the steamingmass which had been poured into the mold. "It's sort of like making agelatin pudding, isn't it?"

  "Jake and me never thought of it that way," the old man replied. "Ilearned from an old Swiss bell maker when I was a lad. And I apprenticedunder a master, you may be sure of that."

  "How do you make a bell anyway?" Louise inquired curiously.

  "You can't tell in five minutes what it takes a lifetime to learn," theold man answered. "Now a bell like this one I'm making for the MethodistChurch at Blairstown takes a heap o' work. Jake and me have worked asolid week getting the pattern and mold ready for that pouring job youjust saw."

  "Do you ever have any failures?" Penny asked, seeking to draw him out.

  "Not many, but once in awhile a bell cracks," the old fellow saidmodestly. "That happens when the mold is damp, or not of propertemperature. If gasses collect you may get a nice healthy explosion,too!"

  "Does it take a long while to finish a bell after it's been poured?"Penny pursued the subject.

  "A large one may require a week to cool, but I'll have this fellow out ofthe mold by tomorrow night," Mr. McGuire returned. "Then we'll polish heroff, put in the clapper, and attach the bell to a sturdy mounting. If thetone is right, she'll be ready to install."

  "How do you tell about the tone?" Louise questioned in perplexity.

  "This one should have a deep, low tone," the old man replied. "Otherthings being equal, a large bell gives a deeper tone than a small one.Pitch depends upon diameter, and timbre upon the shape and the alloyused."

  "I never realized there was much to a bell besides its ding-dong,"commented Penny. "But tell me, Mr. McGuire, do you find this work moreinteresting than taking care of the Clock Tower?"

  "Looking after that place wasn't work. It was more like a rest cure. Itook the job because, twelve years ago when the tower went up, theycouldn't find a competent man to look after the clock."

  "And now you've gone back to your old trade?"

  "Oh, I liked it at the tower," Old Seth admitted truthfully. "I'm a bitold to do heavy work such as this. More than likely I'd have gone onputting in my time if Mr. Blake hadn't wanted the job for a friend ofhis."

  "Mr. Blake?" Penny inquired thoughtfully. "Do you mean Clyde Blake, thereal estate man?"

  The old bell maker nodded as he gazed moodily out the window toward thedistant tower which could be seen outlined against the blue sky.

  "Yes, it was Blake that eased me out of that job. He has a lot ofinfluence and he uses it in ways some might say isn't always proper. Ican make a fair living as long as I have my health, so I'm notcomplaining."

  "We met the new caretaker this morning," Penny said after a moment. "Hewasn't very polite to us, and the grounds have gone to wrack and ruin."

  "Did you notice the flower beds?" Old Seth asked, feeling creeping intohis voice. "Half choked with weeds. Charley Phelps hasn't turned a handsince he took over there six weeks ago."

  "I suppose he spends most of his time looking after the big clock," Pennyremarked, deliberately leading the old man deeper.

  "Charley Phelps spends most of his hours smoking that vile pipe of hisand entertaining his roustabout friends," Old Seth snapped. "He doesn'tknow as much as a child about complicated clock machinery. What he can'ttake care of with an oil can goes unrepaired!"

  The conversation had moved in exactly the channel which Penny desired.

  "No doubt that ex
plains why the clock hasn't always been striking rightof late," she said in an offhand way. "Last night I was almost sure Iheard it strike thirteen instead of twelve times. In fact, I had a littleargument with my father about it."

  "You were correct," the old man assured her. "I was working late here inthe shop and heard it myself."

  "There! You see, Louise!" Penny cried triumphantly, turning to her chum.

  "Mr. McGuire, what would cause the clock to strike wrong?" the otherasked.

  "I was wondering myself," he admitted. "In all the ten years I was at thetower, it never once struck an incorrect hour. I think that there musthave been something wrong with the striking train."

  "Pardon my ignorance," laughed Penny, "but what in the world is thestriking train?"

  "Oh, we apply that name to the center section of the mechanism whichoperates the clock. The going train drives the hands, while the quartertrain chimes the quarter-hours, sounding four tuned bells."

  "Just as clear as mud," sighed Louise who disliked all mechanical things."Does the clock strike wrong every night?"

  "Last night was the first time I ever heard it add a stroke," Mr. McGuireanswered. "I'll be listening though, to see if Phelps gets it fixed."

  Penny and Louise had accomplished the purpose of their trip, and so,after looking about the shop for a few minutes, left without trying tosell the old man a camp-benefit tag.

  "Why didn't you ask him to take one?" Louise asked as she and her chumclimbed into the parked car.

  "Oh, I don't know," Penny answered uncomfortably. "It just came over methat Old Seth probably doesn't have much money now that he's out ofsteady work."

  "He must make quite a lot from his bells."

  "But how often does he get an order?" Penny speculated. "I'd guess notonce in three months, if that often. It's a pity Mr. Blake had to pushMr. McGuire out of the tower job."

  Louise nodded agreement, and then with a quick change of subject,reminded her chum that they had had no lunch.

  "It's too late to go home," said Penny, who had other plans. "I'll treatyou to one of the biggest hamburger sandwiches you ever wrapped yourteeth around! How's that?"

  "I'll take anything so long as you pay for it," Louise agreed with alaugh.

  Driving on to Toni's, the girls lunched there without incident, and thenstarted for Riverview by a different route.

  "Say, where are you taking me anyway?" Louise demanded suspiciously."I've never been on this road before."

  "Only out to the Davis farm," Penny responded with a grin. "We have alittle detective work to do."

  During the bumpy ride, she gave her chum a vivid account of the adventureshe had shared with her father the previous night.

  "And just what do you expect to learn?" Louise inquired at the conclusionof the tale. "Are we expected to capture Clem Davis with our bare handsand turn him over to the authorities?"

  "Nothing quite so startling. I thought possibly Mrs. Davis might talkwith us. She seemed to know a lot more about the fire than she wouldtell."

  "I don't mind tagging along," Louise consented reluctantly. "It doesn'tseem likely, though, that the woman will break down and implicate herhusband just because you want a story for the _Riverview Star_."

  Undisturbed by her chum's teasing, Penny parked Leaping Lena at theentrance to the lane, and the girls walked to the cabin.

  "It doesn't look as if anyone is here," Louise remarked, rapping for thesecond time on the oaken door.

  "I'm sure there is," Penny replied in a whisper. "As we came up the lane,I saw the curtains move."

  Louise knocked a third time, so hard that the door rattled.

  "At any rate, no one is going to answer," she said. "We may as well go."

  "All right," Penny agreed, although it was not her nature to give up soeasily.

  The girls walked down the lane until a clump of bushes screened them fromthe cabin.

  "Let's wait here," Penny proposed, halting. "I have a hunch Mrs. Davis ishiding from us."

  "What's to be gained by waiting?" grumbled Louise.

  Nevertheless, she crouched beside her chum, watching the house. Tenminutes elapsed. Both Louise and Penny grew very weary. Thenunexpectedly, the cabin door opened and Mrs. Davis peered into the yard.Seeing no one, she took a wooden water bucket and started with it to thepump which was situated midway between cabin and stable.

  "Now's our chance!" Penny whispered eagerly. "Come on, Louise, we'll cutoff her retreat and she can't avoid meeting us!"