The Clock Strikes Thirteen Part 4

Mr. Parker fingered the black mask. "All the same, Sheriff, you can't just laugh off a thing like this. Even if the November elections aren't far away--"

"I'm not worried about my job," the other broke in. "So far as I know there's no underground organization in this county. All this mask proves is that Clem Davis may be the man who set the Preston fire."

The officer turned to leave the stable. Before he could reach the exit, the double doors slowly opened. A woman, who carried a lighted lantern, peered inside.

"Who's there?" she called in a loud voice.

"Sheriff Daniels, ma'am," the officer answered. "You needn't be afraid."

"Who said anything about bein' afraid?" the woman belligerently retorted.

Coming into the stable, she gazed with undisguised suspicion from one person to another. She was noticeably thin, slightly stooped and there was a hard set to her jaw.

"You're Mrs. Davis?" the sheriff inquired, and as she nodded, he asked: "Clem around here?"

"No, he ain't," she answered defiantly. "What you wanting him for anyhow?"

"Oh, just to ask a few questions. Where is your husband, Mrs. Davis?"

"He went to town early and ain't been back. What you aimin' to lay onto him, Sheriff?"

"If your husband hasn't been here since early evening, who has ridden this horse?" the sheriff demanded, ignoring the question.

Mrs. Davis' gaze roved to the stall where the black mare noisily crunched an ear of corn.

"Why Sal _has_ been rid!" she exclaimed as if genuinely surprised. "But not by Clem. He went to town in the flivver, and he ain't been back."

"Sorry, but I'll have to take a look in the house."

"Search it from cellar to attic!" the woman said angrily. "You won't find Clem! What's he wanted for anyway?"

"The Preston barn was set afire tonight, and your husband is a suspect."

"Clem never did it! Why, the Prestons are good friends of ours!

Somebody's just tryin' to make a peck o' trouble for us."

"That may be," the sheriff admitted. "You say Clem hasn't been here tonight. In that case, who rode the mare?"

"I don't know anything about it," the woman maintained sullenly.

"Didn't you hear a horse come into the yard?"

"I never heard a sound until your car stopped at the entrance to the lane."

"I suppose you never saw this before either." The sheriff held up the black hood which had been found in the barn.

Mrs. Davis stared blankly at the cloth. "I tell you, I don't know nothin'

about it, Sheriff. You ain't being fair if you try to hang that fire onto Clem. And you won't find him hidin' in the house."

"If your husband isn't here, I'll wait until he comes."

"You may have a long wait, Sheriff," the woman retorted, her lips parting in a twisted smile. "You can come in though and look around."

Not caring to follow the sheriff into the house, Penny and her father bade him goodbye a moment later. Tramping down the lane to their parked car, they both expressed the belief that Clem Davis would not be arrested during the night.

"Obviously, the woman knows a lot more than she's willing to tell," Mr.

Parker remarked, sliding into the car seat beside Penny.

"Dad, do you think it was Clem who set fire to the Preston barn?"

"We have no reason to suspect anyone else," returned the editor. "All the evidence points to his guilt."

Penny backed the car in the narrow road, heading toward Riverview.

"That was the point I wanted to make," she said thoughtfully. "Doesn't it seem to you that the evidence was almost too plain?"

"What do you mean, Penny?"

"Well, I was just thinking, if I had been in Clem Davis' place, I never would have left a black hood lying where the first person to enter the barn would be sure to see it."

"That's so, it was a bit obvious," Mr. Parker admitted.

"The horse was left in the stable, and the hoof tracks leading to the Davis place were easy to follow."

"All true," Mr. Parker nodded.

"Isn't it possible that someone could have tried to throw the blame on Clem?" suggested Penny, anxiously awaiting her father's reply.

"There may be something to the theory," Mr. Parker responded. "Still, Mrs. Davis didn't deny that the mare belonged to her husband. She claimed that she hadn't heard the horse come into the stable, which obviously was a lie. Furthermore, I gathered the impression that Clem knew the sheriff was after him, and intends to hide out."

"It will be interesting to learn if Mr. Daniels makes an arrest. Do you expect to print anything about it in the paper?"

"Only routine news of the fire," Mr. Parker replied. "There may be much more to this little incident than appears on the surface, but until something develops, we must wait."

"If you could gain proof that night riders are operating in this community, what then?" Penny suggested eagerly.

"In that case, I should certainly launch a vigorous campaign. But why go into all the details now? I'm sure I'll not a.s.sign you to the story."

"Why not?" Penny asked in an injured tone. "I think night riders would be especially suited to my journalistic talents. I could gather information about Clem Davis and the Prestons--"

"This is Sheriff Daniel's baby, and we'll let him take care of it for the time being," Mr. Parker interrupted. "Why not devote yourself to the great mystery of the Hubell clock? That should provide a safe outlook for your energies."

The car was drawing close to Riverview. As it approached the tall stone tower, Penny raised her eyes to the dark windows. Just then the big clock struck twice.

"Two o'clock," Mr. Parker observed, taking a quick glance at his watch.

"Or would you say three?"

"There's no argument about it this time, Dad. All the same, I intend to prove to you that I was right!"