The creaking sound ceased. But no one answered the call.

"If she's down there, she'll never answer!" Louise said, thoroughly disgusted. "Should we go after her?"

Penny was sorely tempted. She studied the long, high dock only to shake her head.

"If once we get down there, we couldn't climb up again without walking a long distance, Lou."

"Then what should we do?"

"Let's call the police station," Penny urged. Scrambling to her feet, she brushed snow from her ski suit. "This is a case for them to investigate."

"That's what I think," agreed Louise, greatly relieved. "I know my parents wouldn't want me prowling under the docks at night."

Pelted by fast falling snow, the two friends returned to the parked car and then drove to a drugstore several blocks away. Penny telephoned Central Police Station, only to be informed a car could not be sent to the river for a few minutes. Heavy snow had snarled traffic, causing many accidents and tying up police personnel.

For twenty minutes the girls waited patiently in their car, but no one came to investigate. At last, giving up in disgust, they drove to their homes.

Try as she would, Penny could not forget the strange girl with the suitcase who had been so unwilling to answer questions. Who was she? And why had she taken refuge beneath the river docks?

She longed to talk the matter over with her father, but Mr. Parker had gone to bed early.

Penny kept thinking about the matter until she fell asleep and it was foremost in her thoughts when she awoke in the morning.

"Wonder if the _Riverview Star_ carried any mention of a police investigation at the river?" she mused.

Dressing rapidly, she ran downstairs to bring the morning paper in from the porch. Eagerly she scanned the pages.

"Not a single word here!" she exclaimed in disappointment. "Maybe the police didn't even bother to search the dock area."

To make certain, she telephoned Captain Brownell, a personal friend at Central Station. The officer explained that a police car had been dispatched to the river shortly after one o'clock. Footprints noted earlier by the two girls, had been blotted out by falling snow. No one had been found loitering in the area.

"Well, that's that," sighed Penny, turning away from the telephone. "I wish now, Lou and I had taken a chance and prowled under the dock."

From the breakfast alcove, Anthony Parker, a tall, lean man with iron gray hair and intelligent eyes, regarded his daughter in amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Talking to yourself again, Penny?" he teased.

"I am!" Penny slid into a chair beside her father and reached for a tall gla.s.s of orange juice. "The things I'm thinking about the police department aren't complimentary either! What this town needs is a larger force and at least a dozen extra patrol cars!"

"You could find plenty of work for them, I judge."

"Couldn't I? A nice situation when police are too busy to investigate an important call promptly!"

"So they gave you the run-around," teased Mr. Parker. "Suppose you tell me what happened."

Starting at the very beginning, Penny told of hearing the strange cry at the old monastery and later, the meeting with the unfriendly girl who had disappeared near the river docks.

While she related her odd experiences, Mrs. Maud Weems, the family housekeeper, came in bearing a platter of scrambled eggs. Since the death of Penny's mother, the woman had cared for the girl as her own daughter.

She listened attentively to the tale of adventure, and with obvious disapproval.

"In my opinion, that's what comes of midnight skiing parties!" she interrupted the story. "I hope you stay away from k.n.o.b Hill and the monastery after this."

"Oh, Mrs. Weems!" Penny's elfin face lost a little of its excited glow.

"This wonderful skiing weather can't last many days! I simply must go back there!"

"To ski or to investigate the monastery?" asked the housekeeper. "If I know the signs, you're hot on the trail of another mystery!"

"Naturally I want to learn more about that strange cult," grinned Penny.

"Who knows, I might track down a bang-up story for Dad's paper!"

"Skiing always seemed a wholesome sport to me," interposed Mr. Parker, winking slyly at his daughter. "Of course, I don't approve of late hours."

Mrs. Weems sighed as she set the egg platter down hard on the table. "You two always conspire against me!" she accused.

"Why, Mrs. Weems!" Penny observed innocently. "Don't you approve of skiing?"

"Skiing is only an excuse and you know it, Penelope Parker! Oh, dear, I try so hard to raise you properly."

"And you're doing a magnificent job, if I do say so myself," chuckled Penny. "Don't give the matter any further thought!"

"Penny always has proven she uses her head and knows how to take care of herself," added Mr. Parker. "An inquisitive mind is an a.s.set--especially in the newspaper business."

With an injured sniff, Mrs. Weems retreated to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Alone with her father, Penny grinned at him affectionately. His defense of her conduct meant only one thing! He did not disapprove of her interest in the monastery at k.n.o.b Hill.

"He's giving me the 'go' signal!" she thought jubilantly. Aloud she said.

"Dad, don't you think Jay Highland and the monastery might be worth a feature story in the _Riverview Star_?"

"Possibly," he agreed, getting up from the table. "Well, I must move along to the office."

A little disappointed because her father had brushed the subject aside so lightly, Penny spent the morning helping Mrs. Weems with household tasks.

However, directly after luncheon she packed her skis and prepared to set off for k.n.o.b Hill.

Unwilling to go alone, Penny stopped at the Sidell home. To her disappointment, Louise had gone shopping and was not expected back for several hours.

"Maybe I can induce Dad to go with me!" she thought. "He spends entirely too much time indoors. An outing will do him good!"

At the _Star_ plant in the heart of downtown Riverview, Penny wandered through a nearly deserted editorial room to her father's office. For a morning paper the hour was early, and few reporters had as yet unhooded their typewriters.

Through the gla.s.s door Penny observed that her father had a visitor, a middle-aged, intelligent looking man she had never seen before. She would have slipped away had her father not motioned for her to enter.

"Penny, this is James Ayling, an investigator for the Barnes Mutual Insurance Co.," he said. "My daughter, Mr. Ayling."

The visitor arose to grasp the girl's hand firmly.

"Mr. Ayling is from Boston," explained the newspaper owner. He turned to the investigator. "Do you mind if I tell my daughter why you are here?"