"Which makes me all the more determined to see one!"

"I have a hunch he'll turn you away if you call at the monastery again.

Why don't you forget the place, Penny?"

"I should say not! I have an idea--it just came to me!"

"I suppose you'll sneak back at night or something equally as dramatic,"

teased Louise.

Penny plucked an icicle from a roadside bush, nibbling at it thoughtfully as she replied: "Only as a last resort. No, I'll drop in at the newspaper office and get Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, to a.s.sign me to do a feature story on the ceremony tonight. If I officially represent the _Riverview Star_, Father Benedict can't so easily turn me away."

The girls had reached the car. Stowing their skiing equipment, they motored rapidly toward the city.

"What did you think of Old Julia?" Penny inquired as they neared Louise's home. "Especially her remark about the canopied bed in the chapel?"

"Whoever heard of a bed of any kind in a chapel?" Louise scoffed. "She's dizzy, that's all."

"From a map Mr. Eckenrod showed me, I know the chapel is just off the cloister above the crypt," Penny recalled, switching on the windshield wiper to clear the gla.s.s of melting snow. "I suppose it could have been converted into a bedroom."

"I don't think her remark meant a thing. She mumbles most of the time."

"True, but the thing I noticed was that she seemed so afraid of Father Benedict. Do you suppose he abuses her?"

"Oh, Penny! A man of his calling?"

"He's not a real monk. Apparently this cult is only an order that has been in existence a short time. Father Benedict doesn't impress me as a very religious man. Furthermore, all that crystal-gla.s.s-gazing business leads me to think he's more of a charlatan than anything else!"

"Do you think he runs the place to get money?"

"I'm wondering, that's all. We know he accepts very liberal contributions from his converts. Where does the money go?"

"If I were certain he locked us in that room today, I'd believe the worst!" Louise declared as the car stopped in front of the Sidell home.

Opening the door to alight, she added: "He put up a good story though. I guess it must have been an accident."

Penny made no reply.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Louise bade her goodbye. "If you arrange to see one of the cult ceremonies, be sure to let me know."

The afternoon now was late. Penny drove to the _Riverview Star_ building.

Girls who worked in the downstairs business office were leaving for the day, but upstairs the editorial staff was just swinging into action for a busy night.

At the city editor's desk a short wave radio blared routine police calls.

Editor DeWitt, an eyeshade pulled low over his eyes, scowled as he rapidly scanned copy.

Seeing Penny, he looked up and smiled, which was the signal for her to explain the purpose of her call.

Going straight to the point, she asked to be a.s.signed a feature story on the cult ceremony that night in the monastery.

"Think you can get it?" he demanded gruffly.

"Why not?"

"Two of our reporters already have failed. The high monkey-monk out there won't allow any of our men in the building."

"Then you'd like a story?"

"Sure. We're interested in what's going on out there." Mr. DeWitt slashed a page of corrected copy in half with his long scissors. He dropped one section onto the floor and the other into the copy basket. "Learn anything worth while out there today?"

"Nothing worthy of print. If you'll a.s.sign me to the story I'll go back tonight. I think I can get inside again."

"Okay, give me a ring if you run into anything interesting. Your father know you're going?"

"Well, I haven't told him yet."

"Be sure you do," said Mr. DeWitt, looking her straight in the eyes. "I don't want to find myself sitting behind the eight ball!"

"Oh, I'll let Dad know," Penny a.s.sured him hastily. "I'll do it now."

However, her father was in conference, so after waiting around the office a little while, she decided to talk the matter over with him when he came home for dinner.

In the elevator, leaving the office, Penny ran into Jerry Livingston.

Hearing of the a.s.signment, he looked a little worried.

"Think you ought to go out to the monastery alone at night?" he inquired.

"I don't see why not, Jerry."

"I've not met Father Benedict myself," Jerry said, "but one of our reporters who was out there yesterday, didn't like his appearance. I'll bet a cent your father refuses to let you go."

"I hope not," Penny said anxiously. "I'll put up a big argument."

"What time you leaving?" Jerry asked as the elevator let them out on the main floor.

"Early. Maybe around seven o'clock."

"Well, good luck," Jerry said. "I suppose it's all right, or DeWitt wouldn't have given you the a.s.signment."

Parting company with the reporter, Penny stopped briefly at the Riverview Hotel to inquire if Mr. Ayling had returned from Chicago. He had not checked in.

"Queer he doesn't come after sending that telegram," she thought. "I wonder what's delaying him?"

Arriving home a few minutes later, Penny heard the sound of pounding as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weems was sc.r.a.ping carrots at the sink.

"Did you have a good time skiing?" the housekeeper inquired.

"Fair." Penny stripped off her mittens and hung them on a radiator.

"Snow's melting fast today. What's that awful pounding?"