"Was Fenestra annoyed by it?"

"I think so, Lou, although he tried to cover his feelings. He may or may not be a friend of John Munn, but he certainly was anxious to learn what became of him."

"You didn't ask him any questions?"

"No, his visit took me by surprise. But I've been thinking, Lou. I very much want a follow up story on John Munn for next week's paper. Suppose we run out to Fenestra's farm tomorrow."

"What purpose would there be in that?"

"Fenestra may be able to tell us interesting facts which will throw light on the mystery. He may understand the significance of the octopus tattoo."

"You're rather hopeful, I think."

"But you'll go with me?"

"Yes," promised Louise. "I've always had a curiosity to see The Willows.

Besides, I need a vacation from my strenuous duties as editor."

CHAPTER 8 _THE STORM CAVE_

"Well, Penny," remarked Mr. Parker casually at the breakfast table. "I finally bought the cottage."

Penny closed her history book with a loud snap, favoring her father with complete attention. "You bought a cottage?" she echoed. "Where? When?

Why?"

"I've talked about it for the past week, but you were so busy stealing the _Star's_ advertisers that you never listened."

"I'm all ears now, Dad," Penny a.s.sured him, absently reaching for a piece of toast. "Tell me all about it."

"The cottage is located on the Big Bear River. Four rooms and a boathouse. Incidentally, I've hired a man to look after the place and keep the boat in shape. He calls himself Anchor Joe."

"Are we going to live at the cottage this summer?" Penny inquired.

"No, I merely bought it for week-end trips. I plan on a bit of fishing now and then. You may enjoy going with me."

"Oh, Dad," groaned Penny, "how can I? These days I don't even have time to wash my neck. Running a newspaper is more work than I figured."

"I'll give you the address of the cottage, at least," smiled Mr. Parker.

"If you have any spare time during the next three months drive out and look over the place."

"I'll get there somehow," Penny promised, pocketing the card. Her hand encountered a typed, folded sheet of paper which she immediately placed in front of her father. "Oh, by the way, sign this for me, will you?"

"No more cheques."

"This is only an order for a ton-roll of paper. I'm trying to store up a few supplies so that eventually I can publish the _Weekly_ in my own plant."

Mr. Parker signed the order, inquiring teasingly: "Have you engaged your pressman yet? Their wages come rather high you know."

"It takes everything the _Weekly_ makes to meet its current bills,"

sighed Penny. "But one of these days I'll get the paper out in my own plant. Just wait and see!"

"I'll wait," chuckled Mr. Parker. "My hope is that you don't fail in your studies before that happy day arrives."

On her way to school, Penny studied the card given her by her father, and noticed that the new cottage was situated not far from The Willows. Often she and Louise had talked of calling upon Peter Fenestra, but both had been kept busy at the _Times_ office. Now that a linotype operator had been hired to set type, they had a little more free time.

"If Louise will accompany me, I'll visit both places tonight," decided Penny.

Four-thirty found the two girls walking through a dense maple and oak woods which rimmed the Big Bear River. A breeze stirred the tree leaves, but even so the day was hot and sultry.

"I wish it would rain," remarked Louise, trudging wearily beside her companion. "I never knew it to be so warm at this time of year."

"Maybe we can cool off by taking a boat ride when we get to the cottage,"

encouraged Penny. "I think I see the place through the trees."

Directly ahead, in a tiny clearing, stood a freshly painted white cottage. Quickening their steps, the girls soon arrived at the front door. No one seemed to be within call, so they pushed it open.

A long living room with a cobblestone fireplace met their gaze. Beyond was the kitchen, a dining alcove, and two bedrooms.

As they went outside again, they saw a short, wiry man coming toward the cottage from the river.

"You're Miss Parker?" he asked, looking at Louise.

"No, _I_ am," corrected Penny. "And you must be Anchor Joe." Her eyes fastened for an instant upon the tattoo of a four-masted sailing ship imprinted on his arm.

"That's me," agreed the man. "Go ahead an' look around all you like."

Penny and Louise wandered about the grounds, then returned to find Anchor Joe giving the motor boat, which was upturned on the gra.s.s, a coat of varnish.

"We thought you might take us for a ride," remarked Penny. "It must be cool on the water."

"I sure would like to, Miss Parker," said Anchor Joe regretfully. "But I dasn't get 'er wet now. Not until this varnish dries."

Penny nodded, and then asked: "You're a sailor, aren't you? Where have you sailed?"

"The Atlantic, the Great Lakes, the Gulf o' Mexico. Oh, I been everywhere."

Penny and Louise chatted with Anchor Joe for a time but, although they asked any number of questions, they gained very little definite information. The sailor seemed unwilling to tell anything about himself, save in generalities.

"We may as well go on to Peter Fenestra's place," Penny presently remarked. "It's getting late."

Anchor Joe's varnish brush became motionless. He glanced up with sudden interest.

"I wouldn't go there if I was you gals," he said.