The Clock Strikes Thirteen Part 3

"Dad, did you ever hear of an organization such as Mrs. Preston mentioned?" Penny inquired, her gaze on the ground. "I mean around Riverview, of course."

Mr. Parker shook his head. "I never did, Penny. But if what she says is true, the _Star_ will launch an investigation. We'll have no night riders in this community, not if it's in my power to blast them out!"

"Here's your first clue, Dad!"

Excitedly, Penny pointed to a series of hoof marks plainly visible in the soft earth. The tracks led toward the main road.

"Apparently Mrs. Preston told the truth about the barn being fired by a man on horseback," Mr. Parker declared as he followed the trail leading out of the yard. "These prints haven't been made very long."

"Dad, you look like Sherlock Holmes scooting along with his nose to the ground!" Penny giggled. "You should have a magnifying gla.s.s to make the picture perfect."

"Never mind the comedy," her father retorted gruffly. "This may mean a big story for the _Star_, not to mention a worthwhile service to the community."

"Oh, I'm heartily in favor of your welfare work," Penny chuckled. "In fact, I think it would be wonderfully exciting to capture a night rider.

Is that what you have in mind?"

"We may as well follow this trail as far as we can. Apparently, the fellow rode his horse just off the main highway, heading toward Riverview."

"Be sure you don't follow the trail backwards," Penny teased. "That would absolutely ruin your reputation as a detective."

"Jump in the car and drive while I stand on the running board," Mr.

Parker ordered, ignoring his daughter's attempt at wit. "Keep close to the edge of the pavement and go slowly."

Obeying instructions, Penny drove the car at an even speed. Due to a recent rain which had made the ground very soft, it was possible to follow the trail of hoof prints without difficulty.

"We turn left here," Mr. Parker called as they came to a dirt road.

"Speed up a bit or the tires may stick. And watch sharp for soft places."

"Aye, aye, captain," Penny laughed, thoroughly enjoying the adventure.

Soon the car came to the entrance of a narrow, muddy lane, and there Mr.

Parker called a halt.

"We've come to the end of the trail," he announced.

"Have the tracks ended?" Penny asked in disappointment as she applied brakes.

"Quite the contrary. They turn into this lane."

Both Mr. Parker and his daughter gazed thoughtfully toward a small cabin which could be seen far back among the trees. Despite the late hour, a light still glowed in one of the windows.

"The man who set the fire must live there!" Penny exclaimed. "What's our next move, Dad?"

As she spoke, the roar of a fast traveling automobile was heard far up the road, approaching from the direction whence they had just come.

"Pull over," Mr. Parker instructed. "And flash the tail light. We don't want to risk being struck."

Barely did Penny have time to obey before the head-beams of the oncoming car illuminated the roadway. But as it approached, the automobile suddenly slackened speed, finally skidding to a standstill beside the Parker sedan.

"That you, Clem Davis?" boomed a loud voice. "Stand where you are, and don't make any false moves!"

CHAPTER 3 _A BLACK HOOD_

"Good Evening, Sheriff," Mr. Parker said evenly as he recognized the heavy-set man who stepped from a county automobile. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else this time."

Sheriff Daniels put away his revolver and moved into the beam of light.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Thought you might be Clem Davis, and I wasn't taking any chances. You're Parker of the _Riverview Star_?"

"That's right," agreed the editor, "Looking for Clem Davis?"

"I'm here to question him. I'm investigating a fire which was set at the Preston place."

"You're a fast worker, Sheriff," Mr. Parker remarked. "My daughter and I just left the Preston farm, and we didn't see you there. What put you on Davis' trail?"

"Our officer received an anonymous telephone call from a woman. She reported the fire and said that I'd find my man here."

"Could it have been Mrs. Preston who notified you?" Mr. Parker inquired thoughtfully.

"It wasn't Mrs. Preston," answered the sheriff. "I traced the call to the Riverview exchange. Thought it must be the trick of a crank until our office got a report that a fire actually had been set at the Preston farm. By the way, what are you doing around here, Parker?"

"Oh, just prowling," the editor replied, and explained briefly how he and Penny had chanced to be at the scene of the fire.

"If you followed a horseman to this lane there may be something to that anonymous telephone call," the sheriff declared. "I'll look around, and then have a talk with Davis."

"Mind if we accompany you?" inquired Mr. Parker.

"Come along," the sheriff invited.

Penny was hard pressed to keep step with the two men as they strode down the muddy lane. A light glowed in the window of the cabin, and a woman could be seen sitting at a table. The sheriff, however, circled the house. Following the trail of hoof marks he went directly to the stable, quietly opening the double doors.

Once inside, Sheriff Daniels switched on a flashlight. The bright beam revealed six stalls, all empty save one, in which stood a handsome black mare who tugged restlessly at her tether. Her body was covered with sweat, and she s.h.i.+vered.

"This horse has been ridden hard," the sheriff observed, reaching to throw a blanket over her.

"Here's something interesting," commented Mr. Parker. Stooping, he picked up a dark piece of cloth lying in plain view on the cement floor. It had been sewed in the shape of a headgear, with eye holes cut in the front side.

"A black hood!" Penny shouted in awe.

Sheriff Daniels took the cloth from the editor, examining it closely but saying very little.

"Ever hear of any night riders in this community?" Mr. Parker asked after a moment, his tone casual.

"Never did," the sheriff replied emphatically. "And I sure hope such a story doesn't get started."