The Clock Strikes Thirteen Read online

  CHAPTER 2 _NIGHT RIDERS_

  Not to be left behind, Penny quickly followed her father, overtaking himbefore he had gone very far into the forest.

  "Penny, you shouldn't have come," he said sternly. "There may be trouble,and I'll not have you taking unnecessary risks."

  "I don't want you to do it either," she insisted. "Which way did the mengo?"

  "That's what I wonder," Mr. Parker responded, listening intently. "Hearanything?"

  "Not a sound."

  "Queer that all three of them could disappear so quickly," the editormuttered. "I'm sure there's been no attack. Listen! What was that?"

  "It sounded like a car being started!" Penny exclaimed.

  Hastening to the edge of the woods, she gazed toward the parking lot. TheParker car stood where it had been abandoned, but the gray sedan wasmissing. A moving tail light could be seen far down the road.

  "There go our friends," Mr. Parker commented rather irritably. "Theirsudden departure probably saved me from making a chump of myself."

  "How could we tell they didn't mean to rob that other man?" Penny askedin an injured tone. "You thought yourself that they intended to harmhim."

  "Oh, I'm not blaming you," the editor answered, starting toward theparking lot. "I'm annoyed at myself. This is a graphic example of what wewere talking about awhile ago--imagination!"

  Decidedly crestfallen, Penny followed her father to the car. Theyfinished their hamburgers, which had grown cold, and after the tray wasremoved, started home.

  "I could do with a little sleep," Mr. Parker yawned. "After a hard day atthe office, your brand of night life is a bit too strenuous for me."

  Selecting a short-cut route to Riverview, Penny paid strict attention tothe road, for the narrow pavement had been patched in many places. Oneither side of the highway stretched truck farms with row upon row ofneatly staked tomatoes and other crops.

  Rounding a bend, Penny was startled to see tongues of flame brighteningthe horizon. A large wooden barn, situated in plain view, on a slightknoll, had caught fire and was burning rapidly. As she slammed on thebrake, Mr. Parker aroused from light slumber.

  "Now what?" he mumbled drowsily.

  "Dad, unless I'm imagining things again, that barn is on fire!"

  "Let 'er burn," he mumbled, and then fully aroused, swung open the cardoor.

  There were no fire fighters on the scene, in fact the only person visiblewas a woman in dark flannel night robe, who stood silhouetted in the redglare. As Penny and Mr. Parker reached her side, she stared at themalmost stupidly.

  "We'll lose everything," she said tonelessly. "Our entire crop of melonsis inside the barn, packed for shipment. And my husband's new truck!"

  "Have you called a fire company?" the editor asked.

  "I've called, but it won't do any good," she answered. "The barn will begone before they can get here."

  With a high wind whipping the flames, Penny and her father knew that thewoman spoke the truth. Already the fire had such a start that even hadwater been available, the barn could not have been saved.

  "Maybe I can get out the truck for you!" Mr. Parker offered.

  As he swung open the barn doors, a wave of heat rushed into his face.Coughing and choking, he forced his way into the smoke filled interior,unaware that Penny was at his side. Seeing her a moment later, he triedto send her back.

  "You can't get the truck out without me to help push," she replied,refusing to retreat. "Come on, we can do it!"

  The shiny red truck was a fairly light one and stood on an inclinedcement floor which sloped toward the exit. Nevertheless, although Pennyand her father exerted every iota of their combined strength, they couldnot start it moving.

  "Maybe the brake is on!" Mr. Parker gasped, running around to the cab."Yes, it is!"

  Pushing once more, they were able to start the truck rolling. Once inmotion its own momentum carried it down the runway into the open, a safedistance from the flames.

  "How about the crated melons?" Penny asked, breathing hard from thestrenuous exertion.

  "Not a chance to save them," Mr. Parker answered. "We were lucky to getout the truck."

  Driven back by the heat, Penny and her father went to stand beside thewoman in dark flannel. Thanking them for their efforts in her behalf, sheadded that her name was Mrs. Preston and that her husband was absent.

  "John went to Riverview and hasn't come back yet," she said brokenly."This is going to be a great shock to him. All our work gone up insmoke!"

  "Didn't you have the barn insured?" the editor questioned her.

  "John has a small policy," Mrs. Preston replied. "It covers the barn, butnot the melons stored inside. Those men did it on purpose, too! I saw oneof 'em riding away."

  "What's that?" Mr. Parker demanded, wondering if he had understood thewoman correctly. "You don't mean the fire deliberately was set?"

  "Yes, it was," the woman affirmed angrily. "I was sound asleep, and thenI heard a horse galloping into the yard. I ran to the window and saw therider throw a lighted torch into the old hay loft. As soon as he saw itblaze up, he rode off."

  "Was the man anyone you knew?" Mr. Parker asked, amazed by thedisclosure. "Were you able to see his face?"

  "Hardly," Mrs. Preston returned with a short laugh. "He wore a blackhood. It covered his head and shoulders."

  "A black hood!" Penny exclaimed. "Why, Dad, that sounds like nightriders!"

  "Mrs. Preston, do you know of any reason why you and your husband mightbe made the target of such cowardly action?" the newspaper man inquired.

  "It must have been done because John wouldn't join up with them."

  "Join some organization, you mean?"

  "Yes, they kept warning him something like this would happen, but Johnwouldn't have anything to do with 'em."

  "I don't blame your husband," said the editor, seeking to gather moreinformation. "Tell me, what is the name of this disreputableorganization? What is its purpose, and the names of the men who run it?"

  "I don't know any more about it than what I've told you," Mrs. Prestonreplied, suddenly becoming close-lipped. "John never said much about itto me."

  "Are you afraid to tell what you know?" Mr. Parker asked abruptly.

  "It doesn't pay to do too much talking. You act real friendly and you didme a good turn saving my truck--but I don't even know your name."

  "Anthony Parker, owner of the _Riverview Star_."

  The information was anything but reassuring to the woman.

  "You're not aiming to write up anything I've told you for the paper?" sheasked anxiously.

  "Not unless I believe that by doing so I can expose these night riderswho have destroyed your barn."

  "Please don't print anything in the paper," Mrs. Preston pleaded. "Itwill only do harm. Those men will turn on John harder than ever."

  Before Mr. Parker could reply, the roof of the storage barn collapsed,sending up a shower of sparks and burning brands. By this time the redglare in the sky had attracted the attention of neighbors, and severalmen came running into the yard. Realizing that he could not hope to gainadditional information from the woman, Mr. Parker began to examine theground in the vicinity of the barn.

  "Looking for hoof tracks?" Penny asked, falling into step beside him.

  "I thought we might find some, providing the woman told a straightstory."

  "Dad, did you ever hear of an organization such as Mrs. Prestonmentioned?" Penny inquired, her gaze on the ground. "I mean aroundRiverview, of course."

  Mr. Parker shook his head. "I never did, Penny. But if what she says istrue, the _Star_ will launch an investigation. We'll have no night ridersin this community, not if it's in my power to blast them out!"

  "Here's your first clue, Dad!"

  Excitedly, Penny pointed to a series of hoof marks plainly visible in thesoft earth. The tracks led toward the main road.

  "Apparently Mrs. Pre
ston told the truth about the barn being fired by aman on horseback," Mr. Parker declared as he followed the trail leadingout of the yard. "These prints haven't been made very long."

  "Dad, you look like Sherlock Holmes scooting along with his nose to theground!" Penny giggled. "You should have a magnifying glass to make thepicture perfect."

  "Never mind the comedy," her father retorted gruffly. "This may mean abig story for the _Star_, not to mention a worthwhile service to thecommunity."

  "Oh, I'm heartily in favor of your welfare work," Penny chuckled. "Infact, I think it would be wonderfully exciting to capture a night rider.Is that what you have in mind?"

  "We may as well follow this trail as far as we can. Apparently, thefellow rode his horse just off the main highway, heading towardRiverview."

  "Be sure you don't follow the trail backwards," Penny teased. "That wouldabsolutely ruin your reputation as a detective."

  "Jump in the car and drive while I stand on the running board," Mr.Parker ordered, ignoring his daughter's attempt at wit. "Keep close tothe edge of the pavement and go slowly."

  Obeying instructions, Penny drove the car at an even speed. Due to arecent rain which had made the ground very soft, it was possible tofollow the trail of hoof prints without difficulty.

  "We turn left here," Mr. Parker called as they came to a dirt road."Speed up a bit or the tires may stick. And watch sharp for soft places."

  "Aye, aye, captain," Penny laughed, thoroughly enjoying the adventure.

  Soon the car came to the entrance of a narrow, muddy lane, and there Mr.Parker called a halt.

  "We've come to the end of the trail," he announced.

  "Have the tracks ended?" Penny asked in disappointment as she appliedbrakes.

  "Quite the contrary. They turn into this lane."

  Both Mr. Parker and his daughter gazed thoughtfully toward a small cabinwhich could be seen far back among the trees. Despite the late hour, alight still glowed in one of the windows.

  "The man who set the fire must live there!" Penny exclaimed. "What's ournext move, Dad?"

  As she spoke, the roar of a fast traveling automobile was heard far upthe road, approaching from the direction whence they had just come.

  "Pull over," Mr. Parker instructed. "And flash the tail light. We don'twant to risk being struck."

  Barely did Penny have time to obey before the head-beams of the oncomingcar illuminated the roadway. But as it approached, the automobilesuddenly slackened speed, finally skidding to a standstill beside theParker sedan.

  "That you, Clem Davis?" boomed a loud voice. "Stand where you are, anddon't make any false moves!"