Ghost Beyond the Gate

  CHAPTER 24 _TRICKERY_

  "What d'you think you're doing in here?" demanded Sam Burkholder harshly."Snoopers, eh?"

  "Call us that if you like," retorted Mr. Parker. "How long have you beendealing in stolen tires?"

  The shot hit its target. Sam started to speak but no words came. Helooked badly frightened. Convinced that his suspicion was correct, Mr.Parker added sternly:

  "Naturally, I'll report this to the police. You and your partner willhave to face charges."

  "Keep Mattie out of this," growled Sam. "She had nothing to do with thetire business."

  "So you carried on crooked operations all by your lonesome?"

  "I've bought and sold a few tires," Sam said sullenly. "All thesegovernment regulations give me a pain. A guy can't make any money thesedays."

  "So you admit you've been doing an illegal business?"

  "Maybe," said Sam, watching Mr. Parker craftily. "But what's it to you? Itake it you're not a government agent?"

  "I'm interested in breaking up a gang of leeches--the men who've beencleaning this town of tires for the past three months."

  "Those guys are crooks all right," agreed Sam. "Why the last time theysold me a bunch of tires they charged double. When I wasn't going to take'em they said, 'Either you do, or else!'"

  "Did you deal with Ropes Mollinberg?"

  "He's just one of the little fry. What will you give me to spill?"

  "Nothing."

  "Will you keep Mattie out of this?"

  "If she's innocent."

  "She is," insisted Sam. "Supposin' I tell you how to get the whole gang,will you forget what you've seen here?"

  "I make no bargains with Black Market dealers," retorted Mr. Parker."Either you tell what you know, or I'll have you and Mattie hauled intocourt."

  Sam Burkholder was silent a moment.

  "Okay," he said abruptly. "I've had enough of this business anyhow. I'lltell you what I know, and it won't take me long. I've never seen nordealt direct with the big shots."

  "Then how do you get your tires?"

  "A trucker by the name of Hank Biglow delivers them to me."

  "Louise and I know that man!" cried Penny. "For whom does he work?"

  "I've never asked. But from something Hank dropped I kinda suspect theboys are having a meeting tonight."

  "Where?" Mr. Parker demanded eagerly.

  "I'll tell you on one condition. You've got to keep Mattie out of this.So far as she knows this garage has been run pretty much on the square."

  Mr. Parker was unwilling to make any sort of agreement with the man.Nevertheless, he realized that Sam had it within his power to withholdvital information.

  "Very well," he said, "I'll take your word for it that Mattie isinnocent. Now where is the meeting to be held?"

  "At Johnson's warehouse."

  "Isn't that along the river?"

  "Yeah, about eight miles from here. The boys will be loading some tiresthere. If you're willing to take the risk, you may learn something.Meeting's at seven."

  Penny glanced at her wrist watch.

  "It's after six now!" she exclaimed in dismay. "Dad, if we are to getthere in time, we've got to step!"

  "Right you are," he agreed.

  Before leaving the garage, Mr. Parker telephoned Central Police Station.Without mentioning Sam's name, he revealed a little of what he hadlearned and requested an immediate investigation of the JohnsonWarehouse. Then, intending to meet officers there, he and Penny taxiedalong the winding river road.

  Although not yet seven o'clock, it was darkening fast. The driverswitched on headlights, illuminating a long stretch of icy pavement.

  "Can't you go faster?" Mr. Parker urged impatiently.

  "Don't dare, sir," replied the driver.

  Even as he spoke, a crossroads traffic light flashed red. Though thedriver applied the foot brake with quick stabs, the car went into adisastrous skid. Out of control, it slid crosswise in the narrow road.The front wheels rolled into a deep, slippery ditch.

  "Just our luck!" muttered Mr. Parker.

  Several times the driver tried to back the car from the ditch. Failing,he and Mr. Parker pushed while Penny handled the steering wheel. Thetires kept spinning and would not grip the ice.

  "No use," the publisher acknowledged at last. "We're only wasting time.We need a tow car."

  "The nearest house or filling station is at least a mile up the road,"volunteered Penny. "I'm afraid we're stalled here until the police carcomes along."

  They climbed into the taxi and waited. No vehicle of any description cameby. With increasing impatience, Mr. Parker looked at his watch.

  "It's nearly seven o'clock now!" he exclaimed. "Either the police arewaiting farther down the road, or they've taken a different route!"

  "What are we going to do?" Penny asked helplessly. "If we sit here muchlonger we'll miss catching those men at their meeting."

  "I don't see what we can do. Maybe our best bet is to walk to the nearestfilling station."

  Penny suddenly was struck with an idea. "The Riverview Yacht Club iscloser!" she cried.

  "True, but it's closed for the winter."

  "My iceboat is still there," said Penny. "If you're not afraid to ridewith me, I could get you to Johnson's Warehouse in nothing flat."

  "What are we waiting for?" demanded Mr. Parker.

  Leaving the cab driver behind, Penny and her father ran most of the wayto the club. The _Icicle_, covered with snow, runners frozen to the ice,remained where it had been abandoned.

  "The sail's here too!" Penny declared, burrowing in a box hidden deep inthe cockpit. "In this wind, we'll go places!"

  "Are you sure you can handle the boat?" Mr. Parker asked anxiously. Hehad never ridden in the _Icicle_ and from his daughter's vividdescriptions, had no great desire to do so.

  "I know I can start it going," Penny replied with a quick laugh. "I'llworry about stopping it when the time comes!"

  They cleared the little boat of snow and pushed it out on the smooth iceof the river. Penny made certain that all the ropes were free running.

  "Now you get in, Dad," she advised as she hoisted the flapping sail. "Iwant to be sure where you are when the fireworks begin."

  The wind filled the big sail like a balloon. Nothing happened. Theiceboat did not move an inch.

  "Why don't we go?" growled Mr. Parker. "Runners dull?"

  Penny gave the boat a hard push.

  "Want me to help?" offered her father.

  "No, thanks," puffed Penny. "When this baby makes up its mind, it will goso fast you'd be left behind."

  Once more she pushed. The sail filled again and the runners stirred.

  "It's moving!" shouted Penny.

  The _Icicle_ was pulling away from her. She clung fast, trying toscramble aboard. Her feet went out from under her and she was draggedover the ice.

  "Hang on!" shouted Mr. Parker. "I can't sail this thing alone!"

  Penny clung desperately. Away flew a mitten. Her scarf flapped in herface. With a supreme effort, she pulled herself aboard, and took commandof the tiller.

  "Are you hurt?" Mr. Parker shouted anxiously in her ear.

  Penny shook her head and laughed. "Getting started always is quite atrick," she replied. "Sit tight! We have a stiff breeze tonight."

  Penny and her father wore no protective goggles. The sharp wind stungtheir eyes even though they kept their heads low.

  "How'll we know when we get to the warehouse?" Mr. Parker shouted. "Ican't see anything!"

  "Just trust me," laughed Penny. "All I worry about is stopping thisbronco when we get there!"

  The boat was moving with the speed of an express train. Penny made herdecisions with lightning-like rapidity, twice steering to avoid openstretches of water. She was worried, but had no intention of letting herfather know.

  The boat raced on. Then far ahead loomed the dark outline of a building.
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  "That's the warehouse!" shouted Mr. Parker. "Don't go past it!"

  Penny gradually slowed the _Icicle_. Approaching shore, she slacked themain sheet and shot up into the wind. By using her overshoes for brakes,she finally brought the boat to a standstill not far from the warehouse.

  "Well done, skipper," praised Mr. Parker.

  Scrambling from the boat, they glanced anxiously about. A dim light shonefrom inside the warehouse. Not far from its side entrance stood a truck.There were no other vehicles, no sign of the expected police car.

  "Is this the place?" Penny asked doubtfully.

  "Yes, it's the only warehouse within a mile. Queer the police aren't hereto meet us."

  The publisher waded through a shrunken snowdrift to a side door of thebuilding. It was not locked and he pushed it open a crack. Far down adeserted corridor shone a dim lantern light.

  "Oughtn't we to wait for the police?" Penny whispered uneasily.

  Without answering, Mr. Parker started down the corridor. Penny quicklyovertook him, padding along close at his side.

  The corridor opened into a large storage room used in years past to houseriver merchandise. Now the walls were stacked high with tires.

  On the ground floor stood a truck which several men were loading. Twoothers watched the work from a balcony overhead.

  "Dad, do you recognize any of those men?" Penny whispered.

  "No, but we've evidently come to the right place," he replied.

  The men did not talk as they loaded the tires into the truck. For manyminutes Penny and her father watched the work.

  "That truck soon will be pulling out," Penny observed. "Why don't thepolice come?"

  "I'm going to talk to those men," Mr. Parker decided. "You stay here."

  Before Penny could protest, her father stepped boldly into the lightedroom. Immediately work ceased. Every eye focused upon him.

  "Good evening," said Mr. Parker casually.

  The remark was greeted by a suspicious silence. Then one of the men, ared-faced fellow with a twisted lower lip, asked: "You lookin' fersomebody?"

  "Just passing through and noticed the light," replied Mr. Parker."Wondered what's going on."

  "You can see, can't you?" growled one of the workmen. "We're trying toload tires. Now get out of here or I'll bounce one on your head! We gotwork to do."

  Mr. Parker did not lack courage. However, the grim faces warned him thatthe men would not hesitate to make their promise good. With Pennyunprotected in the corridor he could afford to take no chances.

  "Sorry to have bothered you," he apologized, and retreated.

  Penny waited nervously in the dark hallway. "Now what are we to do?" shewhispered as her father rejoined her.

  "We'll telephone again for the police. Let's get out of here."

  Noiselessly they stole from the building. As they huddled in the lee of abrick wall, a car came down the road.

  "That may be the police now!" Penny murmured hopefully.

  The car turned in at the warehouse. A lone policeman alighted. As he cameover to the building, Penny recognized him as Carl Burns.

  "Where's the rest of your men?" Mr. Parker demanded. "Surely you don'texpect to handle this tire gang single handed?"

  "Aren't you a bit mixed up?" the policeman drawled.

  "Mixed up?"

  "I'm here on a routine inspection. This is a defense plant, or didn't youknow?"

  "A defense plant!" Mr. Parker echoed.

  "A warehouse for one, I should say," corrected the policeman. "Tiresintended for the Wilson war plant are earmarked and shipped out fromhere. A couple of trucks are going out tonight. I'm on the job to seethey're not hijacked."

  Penny gazed blankly at her father. If the policeman's information wascorrect, then they had nearly made a serious blunder.

  "Guess we've been tricked," Mr. Parker muttered. "We were told this placeoperates in the Black Market."

  "That's a laugh," responded the policeman. "Who told you that yarn?"

  "I can't divulge my source."

  "Well, you sure were taken for a ride!" the policeman taunted. "Mr.Parker, why not let the police handle the crooks while you look afteryour newspaper business? You've not been yourself since you were in thatauto accident."

  Penny and her father resented the implication, but wisely allowed theremark to pass without comment. Decidedly crestfallen, they bade thepoliceman goodbye and returned to the iceboat.

  "We've made ourselves ridiculous!" Mr. Parker commented bitterly as theyshoved off down river. "Taken in by Sam Burkholder!"

  "He probably lied to get rid of us," agreed Penny. "By this time he'slikely removed every tire from Mattie's garage!"

  Mr. Parker nodded and did not speak again. His failure to learn theidentity of the key men associated with Ropes Mollinberg, had been abitter disappointment.

  Penny handled the _Icicle_ effortlessly and without much thought. Fasterand faster the little boat traveled, its runners throwing up a powderydust.

  Then without warning the _Icicle_ struck something frozen in the ice.Before Penny could make a move, the runners leaped from the surface. Theboat tilted to a sharp angle, and went over.

  Penny felt herself sliding. Snow filled her mouth, the sleeves of hercoat. Her cap hung over one ear. Laughing shakily, she scrambled to herfeet.

  "Are you all right, Dad?" she called anxiously.

  Then she saw him. Mr. Parker was sprawled flat on the ice a few yardsaway. He did not move. Terrified, she ran to him and grasped his arm.

  "Dad! Speak to me!"

  Mr. Parker stirred slightly. He raised a hand and rubbed his head. Slowlyhe pulled himself to a sitting position.

  "Penny--" he mumbled, staring at her.

  "Yes, Dad."

  "It's come to me--in a flash!"

  "What has, Dad?" Penny asked, wondering how badly her father had beenstunned.

  "Why, all the evidence I had in my portfolio! Names! Pictures! I knowevery man who was mixed up in the tire deal. Jerry gave it all to me."

  "You remember everything?" cried Penny. "Dad, that's wonderful! It's justlike Doctor Greer said. You've regained your memory as the result of asudden blow."

  "Things did seem to rush back to me after I hit my head on the ice."

  Gripping Penny's hand, Mr. Parker pulled himself to his feet. Stillgiddy, he staggered and caught the iceboat for support. Then recovering,he exclaimed:

  "We've got to go back there right away!"

  "Where, Dad?"

  "To the warehouse. We were tricked, but not by Sam Burkholder! PolicemanBurns is one of the men I aim to expose!"