Part 37 (1/2)
”I've got a score to settle with you,” he muttered. ”You ain't a good enough talker to get out of this.”
”Gentlemen--” It was Harvey Maxwell who spoke, and his tone was irritated. ”What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
”We've had a complaint,” said the sheriff. ”Jasko here says you kept him a prisoner in the hotel, trying to make him sign a paper.”
”The old fellow is right in a way,” replied Mr. Maxwell. ”Not about the paper. We did detain him here for his own good, and he managed to get away. I regret to say he went completely out of his mind, became violent, threatened our guests, and it was necessary to hold him until the doctor could arrive. We've already sent for Doctor Corbin.”
”That's just what I was telling them,” added Ralph Fergus.
”Now let me speak my piece,” said Penny. ”Peter Jasko was held a prisoner here because Fergus and Maxwell wanted him to sign a paper leasing his ski slopes to the hotel. That was only one of their many little stunts.
Fergus and Maxwell are the heads of a gigantic fur smuggling business, and they use their hotels merely as a legitimate front.”
”Your proof?” demanded Harvey Maxwell sarcastically. ”The real truth is that I am suing this girl's father for libel. He sent her here to try to dig up something against me. She's using every excuse she can find to involve me in affairs about which I know nothing.”
”If you want proof, I'll furnish it,” said Penny. ”Just step into the Green Room where Henri Croix, a phony Frenchman, is engaged in selling fur coats to three ladies.”
”There's no crime in that,” declared Ralph Fergus angrily. ”Mr. Croix pays the hotel three hundred dollars a month for the use of this wing. So far as we know his business is legitimate. If for any reason we learn it is not, we will be the first to ask for an investigation.”
”Not quite the first,” smiled Penny, ”for I've already made the request.
To go on with my proof, it might be well to investigate Room 27 on this same floor.”
”Room 27 is given over to our teletype service,” interrupted Maxwell.
”Our guests like to get the stock reports, you know, and that is why we have the machines.”
”In Room 27 you will find a storage vault for furs,” Penny went on, thoroughly enjoying herself. ”A panel revolves, opening the way to a secret stair which leads down into the bas.e.m.e.nt of the hotel. I'm not certain about the rest--”
”No?” demanded Maxwell ironically.
”There are additional storage vaults in the bas.e.m.e.nt,” Penny resumed. ”A man is down there guarding what appears to be a tunnel. Tell me, is this hotel close to the old silver mine?”
”About a quarter of a mile from the entrance,” replied the sheriff. ”Some of the tunnels might come right up to the hotel grounds.”
”I understand the hotel bought out the mine, and I believe they may be making use of the old tunnels. At least, the place will bear an investigation. Oh, yes, this paper came off one of the teletype machines.”
Penny took the torn sheet from her pocket and gave it to the sheriff.
”I can't read it,” he said, frowning.
”Code,” explained Penny. ”If I had a typewriter I could figure it out.
Suppose we go to Room 27 now. I'm positive you'll learn that my story is not as fantastic as it seems.”
Leaving Peter Jasko and two deputies to guard Fergus and Maxwell and to see that no one left the Green Room, Penny led the sheriff and four other armed men down the hall. In her excitement she failed to observe Francine Sellberg standing by the elevator, watching intently.
”Here are the teletype machines,” Penny indicated, pausing beside them.
”Now let me have that message. I think I can read it.”
Studying the keyboard of the teletype for a moment, she wrote out her translation beneath the jumbled line of printing. It read: