"Well, I don't know. What's this?" Penny picked up a sheet of notebook paper from the dresser.

"Don't get excited over that," laughed Mrs. Weems.

"It's only a grocery list which Fenestra made up. He doesn't trust anyone to spend his money for him."

"Is this Fenestra's writing?" Penny studied the paper with intense interest.

"Yes, it is."

"Mrs. Weems, I've seen this writing before!" Penny exclaimed. "I'm almost certain of it. There's a marked resemblance!"

"A resemblance to what, Penny?"

"Why, to a threatening note I received. I guess I never told you. Someone left a message on my desk at the newspaper office, warning me to give up my paper."

"And you think Peter Fenestra left it there?" inquired the housekeeper, smiling.

"This looks like the same writing."

"Probably you are mistaken, Penny. Why should he have any interest in your paper?"

"He came to the office one day, questioning me about a story I ran concerning John Munn. I shall keep this and compare it with the note."

Carefully folding the paper, Penny slipped it into her dress pocket. Mrs.

Weems had finished making the bed and was ready to leave.

"I've learned everything I can for you," she said. "Now I hope you're willing to let me return home."

"Please stay another day," pleaded Penny. "I feel in my bones that we're about to make an important discovery."

"Those bones of yours!" complained the housekeeper. "Tell me, how is Tillie Fellows getting along?"

"Well, she tries hard, but I'll admit Dad doesn't like the arrangement."

"Then I must return. It's nonsense for me to stay here."

Penny was paying no attention to Mrs. Weems' words. She had picked up the waste paper basket and was examining the contents. There were a few advertising circulars, an unaddressed envelope and a crumpled ball of paper. The latter, Penny carefully smoothed.

"Mrs. Weems!" she exclaimed. "Look at this!"

The housekeeper hastened to her side. Curiously, she examined the paper.

It bore no writing, only a crude drawing of an octopus.

"This must be the paper which Anchor Joe left on the doorstep only a few minutes ago!" cried Penny excitedly.

"You think it may have been intended as a warning to Peter Fenestra?" The housekeeper regarded the drawing rather dubiously.

"I'm sure of it, Mrs. Weems! Don't you see? The drawing is a copy of the tattoo which both Anchor Joe and John Munn had on their backs!"

"Yes, it does look the same as Joe's marking," conceded the housekeeper.

"But what does it mean? Why was it sent to Fenestra?"

"I wish I knew."

"One thing is clear. That boatman your father hired is a downright scamp."

"He's wanted by the government. We know that. But Fenestra may be a rascal, too. Why should Anchor Joe threaten him unless he's done something he shouldn't?"

"Why indeed? This is a case for the police, not one for you or me,"

declared Mrs. Weems with finality. "I am ready to leave here whenever you are. I've decided not to bother giving Fenestra notice."

"You can't go now. You can't!" moaned Penny. "Stay until after Thursday, at least. I'm positive everything will be cleared up by then."

"Why Thursday?"

"Well, I have a little matter coming up on that day. Besides, I've sent off a letter which may help solve the mystery. Please, Mrs. Weems, do this one favor and I'll never ask another."

"Until next time, you mean. But to please you I'll stay until Friday. Not a day longer. However, I warn you, if I see Anchor Joe prowling about, I shall summon the sheriff."

"That's all right with me," grinned Penny. "I must skip now before Fenestra gets back from town. Just keep your eye on him and report to me if anything unusual happens."

CHAPTER 20 _PICNIC BY MOONLIGHT_

Penny had never found it necessary to explain fully to her father what had become of Mrs. Weems. She had mentioned rather carelessly that the housekeeper was helping out at the Fenestra home for a few days, and he had accepted the subst.i.tution of Tillie Fellows without too many questions.

At breakfast on Wednesday morning, the publisher waited until Tillie had gone to the kitchen, and then asked in an undertone:

"How much longer is this to continue? When is Mrs. Weems coming home?"

"Friday morning, Dad. Don't you like Tillie's cooking?"

"It's awful," he whispered. "These eggs taste as if they had been fried in lard."

"They were," chuckled Penny. "Tillie was brought up to be frugal. She never wastes b.u.t.ter."

The discussion was brought to an abrupt end by the appearance of Tillie.

Mr. Parker immediately switched to another subject, that of a barbecue picnic which he gave each summer to the _Star_ employes. Penny had forgotten that the outing was scheduled for that night at the cottage.

"I'm glad you reminded me, Dad," she said. "I'll be there with bells to eat my share of roast beef. Mind if I bring Old Horney?"

"Invite him if you like," replied Mr. Parker. "But no others. This is a newspaper picnic, not a bread line as you made it last year."

After school that afternoon Penny worked as usual at the _Times_ office.

She was busy figuring advertising s.p.a.ce when she glanced up and saw Fred Clousky standing in the doorway.