Part 35 (1/2)

Separating into groups so that they would not attract attention, Penny and the five men approached the Tower. A light glowed from within, and the caretaker could be seen moving about in the tiny living room.

Tying handkerchiefs over their faces, Salt and Jerry rapped on the back door. Charley Phelps opened it to find himself gazing into the blinding light of two flashlights.

”Say, what--” he began but did not finish.

Jerry and Salt had seized his arms. Before he could make another sound, they shoved a gag into his mouth, and dragging him into the Tower, closed the door. Working swiftly, they trussed his hands and feet and pushed him into a machinery room.

”Nice work, boys,” Mr. Parker praised.

”Listen!” whispered Penny, who had followed the men into the Tower.

The clock had begun to strike the hour of midnight.

”Get up there quickly and do your stuff!” her father commanded. ”You've not much time!”

Two steps at a time, Penny raced up the steep iron stairway which led to the belfry of the Tower. Anxiously, she counted the strokes as they pealed forth loud and clearly. Eight--nine--ten. The clock had never seemed to strike so fast before. Desperately she wondered if she could reach the belfry in time.

The stairway was dark, the footing uncertain. In her nervousness, Penny stumbled. Clutching the handrail, she clung to it a moment until she had recovered balance. But in that interval the clock had kept striking, and she was no longer sure of the count.

”It must be eleven,” she thought, running up the remaining steps. ”The next stroke will be the last.”

Penny reached the great bell just as the clapper struck against the metal. The sound was deafening.

”Now!” she thought excitedly. ”This is the moment, and I dare not fail!”

Balancing herself precariously, Penny raised a hammer high above her head. With all her strength she brought it down hard against the bell.

CHAPTER 23 _A TRAP SET_

To Penny's sensitive ears, the sound which resulted from the hammer blow, seemed weak and lacking in resonance. She sagged back against the iron railing, feeling that she had failed.

”That was swell!” a low voice said in her ear. ”A perfect thirteenth stroke!”

Turning around, Penny saw that Jerry Livingston had followed her into the belfry.

”Did it really sound all right?” she inquired anxiously.

”It was good enough to fool anyone. But the question is, will it bring the Hoods here?”

In the room far below, Mr. Parker had lowered the blinds of the circular windows. Making certain that Charley Phelps was securely bound and gagged so that he could make no sound, he opened the front door a tiny crack and left it that way.

”How about the lights?” Salt Sommers asked.

”Leave them on. Shove that sound apparatus under the daybed. Now I guess everything's set. Upstairs, everyone.”

Mr. Parker, Salt, and the two reporters, joined Penny and Jerry on the iron stairway.

”We may have a long vigil,” the editor warned. ”In fact, this whole scheme is likely to turn out a bust.”