The Cry at Midnight

  CHAPTER 8 _INTO THE CREVASSE_

  Enroute to Riverview, Penny and Mr. Ayling discussed all phases of theirstrange interview with Father Benedict.

  "The man may be all right," the investigator said. "Nevertheless, as amatter of routine I'll check on him. Where was he before he came toRiverview?"

  "I never heard."

  "And who are the members of his mysterious cult? Riverview people?"

  "Not so far as I know. The only persons I've seen on the premises areWinkey, the one they call Julia, and a girl."

  "A girl? Who is she?"

  "I don't know. She peeped from behind a door while Father Benedict wasgiving the crystal ball reading. I started to speak and she motioned meto keep quiet. Then she slipped away."

  "Odd."

  "Yes, it was. For just a minute I thought she might be a girl I picked upon the road the other night in my car. The room was shadowy though, so Igot no clear impression of her face."

  "I'd like to meet the girl--also the other members of the cult."

  "So would I! Why not visit there again soon?"

  "We might try it tomorrow, say about this same time," proposed Mr.Ayling. "I don't plan to remain in Riverview longer than anothertwenty-four hours unless I obtain a clue to Mrs. Hawthorne'swhereabouts."

  "Maybe Winkey won't let us in," commented Penny dubiously.

  "We'll worry about that when the time comes. Perhaps if he makes trouble,we can find ways to persuade him."

  "Shall I pick you up at your hotel?" Penny offered.

  "All right," the investigator agreed. "Meanwhile, I'll wire my office forphotographs of Mrs. Hawthorne and her granddaughter which can bepublished in your father's paper. Also, I'll ask our company to check onFather Benedict's past. He may be operating a quick money racket here."

  "Then you do distrust him!"

  "Not exactly, but I've learned from past experience it pays to overlooknothing. Father Benedict is an eccentric. He may be all right andprobably is. All the same, it will be interesting to learn more abouthim."

  A little later, after agreeing to meet the next afternoon at two o'clock,Penny dropped Mr. Ayling at his hotel. In a high state of excitement, shethen drove on home to report the day's adventure to Mrs. Weems and herfather.

  "Mr. Ayling's awfully nice and smart too!" she declared at the dinnertable. "Together we'll find Mrs. Hawthorne and solve the mystery of themonastery!"

  "What mystery?" teased her father.

  "I don't know yet," Penny admitted with a chuckle. "But give me time!I'll find one! I can feel it bubbling in the air!"

  Mrs. Weems, who came into the dining room with a platter of roast beef,observed: "If you take my advice, you'll stay away from that place!"

  "Oh, Mrs. Weems!"

  "You only invite trouble by going there," the housekeeper said severely."Furthermore, it will distract you from your school work."

  "School teachers' convention this week!" Penny reminded her. "We're offtomorrow and next day too! Don't worry about anything happening to me atthe monastery, Mrs. Weems. Mr. Ayling makes a dandy chaperon."

  "If you're going with him, I suppose I can't protest," the housekeepergave in. "Mind, you're home before dark."

  "I'll do my best," Penny grinned. "No rash promises though!"

  The next afternoon, sharp at two o'clock, she drove to the frontentranceway of the Riverview Hotel. Mr. Ayling was nowhere to be seen.After waiting ten minutes, she parked and went inside to inquire at thedesk.

  "Mr. Ayling has room 416," the clerk told her. "Doubt whether you'll findhim in just now. He left here late last night and hasn't been back."

  "That's queer," thought Penny. Aloud she asked if the investigator hadleft any message for her.

  "Nothing," replied the clerk.

  "He didn't say where he was going?"

  "No, but he evidently intends to be back. His luggage is still here, andhe hasn't paid his bill."

  To satisfy herself, Penny telephoned Room 416. No one answered.

  "Wonder if he could have thought he was to meet me at the monastery?" shemused. "Guess I may as well drive out there."

  The sunshine was strong and the day slightly warm. Penny, who had wornheavy skiing clothes, shed her coat before she reached the monastery.

  Pulling up at the barrier gate, she glanced hopefully about. Mr. Aylingwas nowhere to be seen. If he had arrived ahead of her, undoubtedly hewas inside the building.

  As Penny hesitated, wondering what to do, Winkey's ugly face appearedbehind the iron spokes of the gate.

  "You again!" he observed with a scowl.

  "Yes, I'm looking for a friend of mine, Mr. Ayling, who was hereyesterday."

  "You think we got him hid somewheres?" the gateman asked insolently.

  "I thought he might have come here again."

  "Well, he didn't. And Father Benedict ain't here either. So you can'tcome in."

  Though annoyed by the hunchback's curt manners, Penny held her temper incheck.

  "I very much wanted to talk to your master," she said. "I may ask him toallow me to join the cult."

  The hunchback's eyes opened wide, and, as was his habit, he then blinkedrapidly.

  "You ain't here just to snoop around?" he asked with distrust.

  "Such an idea!" Penny hoped that her laughter sounded convincing.

  "If ye want to join the cult, you can talk to Father Benedict later," thehunchback said grudgingly. "But unless you got something to contribute,it's no use trying to get in."

  "Money you mean?"

  "Either cash on the line or jewels."

  "And what becomes of the money?"

  "It goes for charity." Winkey fast was losing patience. "Now cut out thequestions!" he said crossly. "If you want to join the society, talk tothe boss."

  "Are there any other girls staying here?" Penny had been leading up tothis question.

  "Talk to the boss, I said!" Winkey snapped. "Maybe he'll be heretomorrow. Now go away and stop botherin' me. I got work to do!"

  Disappointed by her failure to find Mr. Ayling or extract informationfrom Winkey, Penny returned to the car.

  Driving along the road a few minutes later, she glimpsed, far over thehills, a skier who descended the steep slope at breakneck speed.

  "It's a wonderful day for skiing!" she thought, recalling that all of herequipment was ready in the car. "Why don't I make the most of it?"

  Pulling up, Penny got out skis and poles. Hastily waxing the runners, sheput them on and set off across the fields toward the distant hill.

  The loose snow had blown into deep banks and crevasses. Penny frequentlyhad been warned by more experienced skiers that visible crevasses nearlyalways were a warning of hidden ones.

  At first as she raced along, she kept alert watch for unexpected breaksor depressions in the snow. But as she drew near the hills to the rear ofthe old monastery, she frequently shifted her gaze toward the interestingold building.

  Smoke curled lazily from the hooded chimneys. Otherwise, the premisesappeared unoccupied.

  Then, Penny saw a bent figure coming from the rear of the grounds,pulling a long sled behind him.

  "Why, it's Winkey!" she recognized him. "Now what can he be doing withthat sled? Surely at his age he isn't going coasting."

  More than a little interested, the girl set her course the better towatch the hunchback. Soon she saw him striking off toward a pine woodsand a large, two-story log cabin some distance away.

  At the edge of the woods, not far from the cabin, had been stackedseveral cords of seasoned logs taken from the forest.

  Pulling his sled alongside, Winkey began to pile it high with the cutfirewood.

  "I wonder if that's his wood?" thought Penny.

  So absorbed had she become in Winkey's actions that she neglected towatch the drifts ahead. Too late, she saw that her singing skis weretaking her directly into a wide, deep crevasse.

  Des
perately, Penny swerved and tried to check her speed. The break in thesnow was extensive and could not be avoided.

  Over the brink she shot. Poles flew from her hand and she clutched wildlyfor a hold on the bank. Failing, she tumbled over and over, landing in anungainly heap of splintered skis at the base of the deep pit.