Part 21 (2/2)
”Providing the man ever comes to Riverview,” Louise said skeptically. ”It seems like a forlorn hope to me.”
Before leaving the office, Penny inquired of the clerk who had handled the message if a description of Ben Bowman could be provided.
”I really don't remember him,” the young woman answered. ”In general I should say he was well-dressed--probably about thirty-five years of age.”
”Not much to go on,” Penny said regretfully. ”Thanks anyhow.”
”Where now?” Louise asked in a weary voice as they finally left the telegraph office. ”Shall we buy tickets to the play?”
”Not yet,” said Penny. ”I'd like to wander around the market district a bit.”
For the next hour they did exactly that, selecting a section of the city where farmers brought their produce to sell in open stalls. Penny went from one counter to another, inspecting cantaloupes, hoping to find one which bore the Davis stamp.
”I'm getting tired of pawing vegetables!” Louise presently complained.
”When do we eat?”
”All right, we may as well call it a day,” Penny replied reluctantly.
In the downtown section of the city, the girls found a small cafe which advertised a deluxe dinner for one dollar. Treating themselves to the best, they enjoyed a leisurely meal, and then bought theatre tickets.
”Penny, do you realize what all this is costing us?” Louise began to worry belatedly.
”Oh, I'll soon make it up,” Penny joked. ”Wait until I capture Ben Bowman! With my profit from him we'll paint the town red!”
”You're nothing if not optimistic,” Louise said pityingly.
The play was an excellent one and when the curtain fell at eleven, neither girl begrudged the money paid for tickets.
”It's been a grand day,” Louise sighed contentedly as they left the theatre. ”Let's get home now as quickly as we can.”
The drive to Riverview consumed nearly an hour. As the girls approached the Hubell Tower, they noted by the illuminated clock face that the hands pointed to twelve o'clock.
”The witching hour of midnight,” Louise remarked. ”Do you still think that mechanical creature has supernatural powers?”
”Quiet!” Penny commanded, idling the car as the big clock began to strike. ”I'm going to count the strokes.”
”I'll do it too, just so you can't pull a fast one on me. That's two now.”
As each slow note sounded, Louise counted it aloud. Reaching twelve, she paused, but the clock did not. There was a slight break, then another stroke.
”Why, it did strike thirteen!” she gasped. ”Or perhaps I became mixed up!”
”You made no mistake,” Penny declared, easing the car to a standstill by the curb. ”It struck thirteen, and that last stroke wasn't like the others!”
”It did seem to have a slightly different tone. I wonder why?”
”Someone may have struck the bell an extra tap!” Penny answered with conviction. ”Louise, don't you see! It must be a signal!”
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