roller-coaster sliding down one mountain and up another. I thought every minute we were going to crash.”

Maxine Miller likewise seemed to have spent an uncomfortable night, for her face was haggard and worn. She looked five years older and her make-up was smeared.

“Tell me, do I look too dreadful?” she asked Penny anxiously. “I want to appear my best when I meet Mr. Balantine.”

“You’ll have time to rest up before you see him,” the girl replied kindly.

“How long before we reach Pine Top?”

“We should be approaching there now.” Penny studied the terrain below with deep interest, noting mountain ranges and beautiful snowy valleys.

At last the plane circled and swept down on a small landing field which had been cleared of snow. Passengers began to pour from the cabin, grateful that the long journey was finally at an end.

“I hope I see you again,” said Penny, extending her hand to Miss Miller. “And the best of luck with Mr. Balantine.”

Eagerly, she gathered together her possessions and stepped out of the plane into blinding sunlight. The air was crisp and cold, but there was a quality to it which made her take long, deep breaths. Beyond the landing field stood a tall row of pine trees, each topped with a layer of snow like the white icing of a cake. From somewhere far away she could hear the merry jingle of sleigh bells.

“So this is Pine Top!” thought Penny. “It’s as pretty as a Christmas card!”

A small group of persons were at the field to meet the plane. Catching sight of a short, sober-looking little woman who was bundled in furs, Penny hastened toward her.

“Mrs. Downey!” she cried.

“Penny, my dear! How glad I am to see you!” The woman clasped her firmly, planting a kiss on either cheek. “But your father shouldn’t have disappointed me. Why didn’t he come along?”

“He wanted to, but he’s up to his eyebrows in trouble. A man is suing him for libel.”

“Oh, that is bad,” murmured Mrs. Downey. “I know what legal trouble means because I’ve had an unpleasant taste of it myself lately. But come, let’s get your luggage and be starting up the mountain.”

“Just a minute,” said Penny in a low tone. With a slight inclination of her head, she indicated the two male passengers who had made the long journey from Riverview to Pine Top. “You don’t by any chance know either of those men?”

Mrs. Downey’s face lost its kindliness and she said, in a grim voice: “I certainly do!”

Before Penny could urge the woman to reveal their identity, Francine walked over to where she and Mrs. Downey stood.

“Did you wish to see me?” inquired the hotel woman as Francine looked at her with an inquiring gaze.

“Are you Mrs. Downey?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I am looking for a place to stay,” said Francine. “I was told that you keep an inn.”

“Yes, we have a very nice lodge up the mountain about a mile from here. The rooms are comfortable, and I do most of the cooking myself. We’re located on the best ski slopes in the valley. But if you’re looking for a place with plenty of style and corresponding prices you might prefer the Fergus place.”

“Your lodge will exactly suit me, I think,” declared Francine. “How do I get there?”

“In my bob-sled,” offered Mrs. Downey. “I may have a few other guests.”

“It won’t take me a minute to get my luggage,” said Francine, moving away.

Penny was none too pleased to know that the girl reporter would make her headquarters at the Downey Inn. Her face must have mirrored her misgiving, for Mrs. Downey said apologetically:

“Business hasn’t been any too good this season. I have to pick up an extra tourist whenever I can.”

“Of course,” agreed Penny hastily. “One can’t run a hotel without guests.”

“I do believe Jake has snared another victim,” Mrs. Downey laughed. “That woman with the bleached hair.”

“And who is Jake?” inquired Penny.

Mrs. Downey nodded her head toward a spry man with leathery skin who was talking with Maxine Miller.

“He does odd jobs for me at the Inn,” she explained. “When he has no other occupation he tries to entice guests into our den.”

“You make it sound like a very wicked business,” chuckled Penny.

“Since the Fergus hotel was built it’s become a struggle, to the death,” replied Mrs. Downey soberly. “I truly believe this will be my last year at Pine Top.”

“Why, you’ve had your home here for years,” said Penny in astonishment. “You were at Pine Top long before anyone thought of it as a great skiing resort. You’re an institution here, Mrs. Downey. Surely you aren’t serious about giving up your lodge?”

“Yes, I am, Penny. But I shouldn’t start telling my troubles the moment you arrive. I never would have said a word if you hadn’t asked me about those two men yonder.”

She gazed scornfully toward the strangers whose identity Penny hoped to learn.

“Who are they?” Penny asked quickly.

“The slim fellow with the sharp face is Ralph Fergus,” answered Mrs. Downey, her voice filled with bitterness. “He manages the hotel and is supposed to be the owner. Actually, the other man is the one who provides all the money.”

“And who is he?”

“Why, you should know,” replied Mrs. Downey. “He has a hotel in Riverview. His name is Harvey Maxwell. He only comes here now and then.”

“Harvey Maxwell!” repeated Penny. “Wait until Dad hears about this!”

“Your father has had dealings with him?”

“Has he?” murmured Penny. “Maxwell is the man who is suing Dad for libel!”

“Well, of all things!”

“I believe I understand why Francine came out here too,” Penny said thoughtfully.

“Francine?”

“The girl who just engaged a room at your place. I think she went to your Inn for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on me.”

“Why should she wish to do that?”

“Francine is a reporter for the Riverview Record. Dad’s story about Maxwell bribing a football player served as a tip-off to other editors. Now the Record may hope to get evidence against him which they can build up into a big story.”

“I should think that would help your father’s case.”

“It might,” agreed Penny, “all depending upon how the evidence was used. But somehow, I don’t trust Francine. If there’s any fancy newspaper work to be done at Pine Top, I aim to look after it myself!”