“Dad, this story is developing into something big, isn’t it?”
He nodded as he moved a swinging light bulb slowly over the paper, hastening the drying process.
“After the next issue of the Star is printed, every paper in the state will send their men here. But we’re out ahead, and when the big break comes, we may get that first, too.”
“Oh, Dad, if only we can!”
“Count yourself out of the case from now on, young lady,” he said severely. “You scared the wits out of me tonight, risking your life to save that no-good. Now shed those wet clothes before you come down with pneumonia.”
He tossed her an overcoat, a sweater and a crumpled pair of slacks which Griffith had found under one of the boat seats. Leaving the cabin, he closed the door behind him.
Penny did not change her clothes at once. Instead, she sat down at the table, studying the warning message.
“‘Better come through,’” she read aloud. “Does that mean Kippenberg is supposed to pay money? And what fate did Atherwald meet?”
CHAPTER 20
AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW
Those same questions were pounding through Penny’s mind the next morning when she read the first edition of her father’s paper. Propped up in bed with pillows, she perused the story as she nibbled at the buttered muffins on her breakfast tray.
“Is there anything else you would like?” Mrs. Weems inquired, hovering near.
“No, I’m quite all right,” smiled Penny. “Not even a head cold after my ducking. Have you heard about Jerry?”
“Your father said he was doing fine.”
“Did he leave any message for me before going to the office?”
“He said he thought you should stay in bed all day.”
“Dad would,” Penny pouted. “Well, I feel just fine. I’m getting up right away.” She heaved aside the bed clothes.
Then, because she couldn’t get the Kippenberg case out of her head, she dressed quickly and went downstairs. She was going out the front door when Mrs. Weems stopped her.
“Now where are you going, Penny?”
Penny’s bright eyes twinkled and she flashed the housekeeper an arch, provocative smile.
“Not sure just where I’m going,” she replied, her smooth forehead creasing with thought. “But if Dad should get curious, you can tell him he shouldn’t be surprised if he finds me visiting with the Kippenbergs.”
“Penny! You’re not going there again?”
“Why not? I’m after a story for the Riverview Star and I mean to get it. See you later.”
With a wave of her hand Penny walked jauntily off. A few moments later Mrs. Weems heard the clatter of Penny’s Leaping Lena careening down the street in the direction of Corbin. First, however, she called for her chum, Louise, who was eager to accompany her on the long ride.
“I won’t be able to stay long, Penny,” said Louise. “Mother wants me to go shopping with her later this afternoon.”
“That’s all right,” responded Penny as the old car bolted along the road. “If I get delayed, you can take Leaping Lena back home, and I’ll follow later on.”
With both girls keeping up a steady run of conversation they soon reached their destination.
Penny wondered if she would be able to enter the Kippenberg estate without being challenged by the bridgeman or a servant. Her anxiety increased upon approaching the river, for she saw that a large group of persons had gathered by the drawbridge.
No one paid the slightest attention to the two girls as they abandoned the car and proceeded to the water’s edge. Penny was pleased to find the youthful boatman at his usual haunt on the river. He rowed the girls across to the estate, promising to await their return.
Penny escorted Louise through the trees to the Kippenberg house. Boldly she rang the doorbell which was answered by a butler.
“I should like to speak with Mrs. Kippenberg,” she requested.
“Madam will see no one,” began the man.
Footsteps sounded behind him in the hallway and Mrs. Kippenberg stood in the door.
“So it is you?” she asked in an icy voice. “Julius, see that this person is ejected from the grounds.”
“One moment please,” interposed Penny. “If I leave now, I warn you that certain facts will be published in the Star, facts which will add to your embarrassment.”
“You can print nothing which will humiliate usfurther.”
“No? You might like to have me mention the alligator in your lily pool. And the reason why you and your daughter are so anxious to be rid of it before the police ask questions.”
Mrs. Kippenberg’s plump face flushed a deep red. But for once she managed to keep her temper.
“What do you wish of me?” she asked frigidly.
“First, tell me about that painting, ‘The Drawbridge’which was presented to your daughter as a wedding gift. Was it not given to her by your husband?”
“I shall not answer your question.”
“Then you prefer that I print my own conclusions?”
“You are an impudent, prying young woman!”Mrs. Kippenberg stormed. “What if the picture was given to Sylvia by her father! Is that any crime?”
“Certainly not,” said Penny soothingly. “It merely proves that you both know the whereabouts of Mr. Kippenberg.”
“Perhaps I do. But I’ll tell you nothing, absolutely nothing!”
“I have a few questions to ask about your new gardener,” Penny went on, unmoved. “For instance, why does he wear a wig?”
The door slammed in her face.
“That certainly was a very cold reception,” remarked Louise as the girls walked away, the sound of the slamming door still ringing in their ears.
Penny shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “That’s nothing. When you’re a reporter you have to expect those things.” She looked about the deserted estate. “Well, I think I’ll do some more sleuthing in the vicinity of the pool.”
Louise looked at her wristwatch. “Goodness, it’s getting late,” she stated. “I’d like to stay, Penny, but I think I’d better be getting home to meet Mother.”
“Go ahead,” said Penny. “You take Leaping Lena. The boy in the boat will row you across.”
“But how will you get home, then?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way. You just go on. I only hope the old bus holds up all the way home.”
Louise laughed and then the two girls walked to the boat dock. In a few moments the boy in the rowboat appeared and took Louise across. Afterward, Penny turned back through the trees and went on to the forbidden part of the estate.
She spent a long time about the pool, examining the earth all about it, but she failed to learn anything new. Finally, she retraced her steps to the river. She expected to find the boy waiting for her, but he had disappeared. She walked through the trees to the boat dock and stood there until the old watchman on the other side observed her predicament.
He obligingly lowered the drawbridge and she crossed the river, pausing at the gear house to chat with him.
Penny listened without comment to his story of the automobile accident. Thorny had his own version of how it had occurred and she did not correct any of the details.
“I wish I had a way to get into Corbin,” she remarked when he had finished his lengthy account.
“If you walk down to the main road you kin catch the county bus,” he told her. “It runs every hour.”
A long hike along a dusty highway, an equally tedious wait at a crossroad, and finally Penny arrived in Corbin. She went directly to the Colonial Hotel, placing a telephone call to her father’s office.
“What are you doing in Corbin, Penny?” her father demanded as he recognized her voice.
Penny answered him eagerly. “I’ve made an important discovery which may blow your case higher than a kite. No, I can’t tell you anything over the telephone. The reason I am calling is that I may need help. Is Jerry still in the hospital?”
>
“He never was there,” responded her father. “I couldn’t make him go. He and Salt are out on the river looking for the men who cracked him over the head. I expect they’ll call in any time now.”
“If you do get in touch with Jerry, ask him to meet me at the Colonial Hotel,” urged Penny. “I have a hunch the big story is about to break. In any event I’ll need a ride home.”
There was a great deal more to the conversation, with Mr. Parker delivering a long lecture upon the proper deportment for a daughter. Penny closed her ears, murmuring at regular intervals, “Yes, Dad,” and finally went back to her post in the lobby.
CHAPTER 21
THE WHITE CRUISER
For at least an hour she waited. She watched the clock until the hands pointed to six o’clock. Tantalizing odors came to her from the dining room, but she resolutely downed her hunger. She did not wish to give up her vigil even for a few minutes.
Finally Penny’s patience was rewarded. She saw a man moving across the lobby toward the desk. He wore well-cut tailored clothes and a low-brimmed felt hat, yet the girl recognized him at a glance. He was the Kippenberg gardener.
The man paused at the desk and asked for a key.
“Good evening, Mr. Hammil,” said the clerk, handing it over.
Penny had noted that the key was taken from a mailbox which bore the number, 381.
“So my friend, the gardener, has an alias,” she mused. “Several of them, perhaps.”
Another half hour elapsed while the girl waited patiently in her chair. Each time the elevator descended she watched the people alight. At exactly six forty-five Mr. Hammil stepped out of the lift, and without glancing toward the girl, dropped his key on the desk and went into the dining room.
The clerk, busy with several newcomers at the hotel, did not notice. Thinking that she saw her chance, Penny slipped from her chair, sidled toward the desk and picked up the key. Her heart pounded as she walked toward the elevator, but no one called to her. Her action had passed unobserved.
“Third floor,” said Penny, and the elevator shot upward.
She located room 381 at the far end of the hall, and with a quick glance in both directions, unlocked the door and entered.
An open suitcase lay upon the luggage rack by the dresser. In systematic fashion Penny went through it, finding an assortment of interesting articles—a revolver, and two wigs, one of gray hair, the other black. There were no letters or papers, nothing to positively identify the owner of the luggage. But in the very bottom of the case Penny came upon a photograph. It was a picture of Sylvia Kippenberg.
Penny slipped the picture into the front of her dress, hastily replaced everything as she had found it, relocked the door, and returned to the lobby. As she went toward the desk intending to rid herself of the key, she stopped short.
Jerry Livingston stood there talking earnestly with the clerk.
“But I was told to come here,” she heard him protest.
“There was a girl in the lobby a few minutes ago,” the clerk replied. “She went off somewhere.”
“No, here I am, Jerry!” Penny cried.
The reporter turned around and his face lighted up.
“Come outside, Jerry,” Penny said before he could speak. “I have a great deal to tell you.”
“And I have some news of my own,” returned the reporter.
They left the hotel together. Once beyond hearing, Penny made a complete report of her afternoon adventure, and showed Jerry the picture of Sylvia Kippenberg which she had taken from room 381.
“Now for my story,” said Jerry. “I’ve located a place not far from here where those two seamen buy supplies. The owner of the store told me they tie their boat up there nearly every night.”
“Where is Salt now, Jerry?”
“He’s keeping watch at the place. I came into town to telephone the Star office. Your father said I was to stop here and take you in tow.”
“You’re not starting back to Riverview?” Penny asked in dismay.
“I don’t want to, Penny. I have a feeling our big story is just about ready to break!”
“So have I, Jerry. Let’s stay with it. I’ll explain to Dad when we get home.”
“Then let’s be on our way,” the reporter said crisply. “No telling what has developed while I’ve been in town.”
In the press car, the couple took the river road which led east from the Kippenberg estate. As they bounced along, making all possible speed, Jerry told Penny how he and Salt had traced the two seamen. They had made inquiry all along the river, and quite by chance had encountered a fisherman who had given them a valuable tip.
“But so many rumors are false, Jerry,” Penny said.
“This tip was straight. Salt and I found the white cruiser tied up at the dock not far from this store I was telling you about. We’ve been watching it for the past two hours, and Salt is still there.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Wouldn’t have done any good. The men we’re after haven’t been there all day. The only person on board is a girl.”
“A girl?”
“Well, maybe you would say a young woman. About twenty-two, I’d guess.”
“Jerry, you must be watching the wrong boat.”
Jerry shook his head as he drove the car into the bushes at the side of the road. “It’s the right one, I’m sure of it. Well, we’re here.”
Penny was hard pressed to keep up as the reporter led her through the trees down to the winding Kobalt river. They found Salt in his hiding place, behind a large boulder.
“Anything happen since I left?” Jerry demanded.
Salt scarcely noticed Penny’s presence save to give her a quick nod of welcome.
“You got back just in time,” he replied to the question. “The girl went away a minute ago. Took a basket and started for the store.”
“Then why are we waiting?” asked Jerry. “Come on, we’ll take a look inside that boat.”
“Someone ought to stay here and keep watch,”Salt returned. “She may come back any minute.”
“You’re elected guard then. Penny and I will look the boat over and see what we can find. If the girl starts back, whistle.”
Darting across the muddy shore, Penny and Jerry reached the dilapidated boat which had been tied up at the end of a sagging dock. They jumped aboard and after a hasty glance over the deck, dived down into the cabin.
The room was dirty and in great disorder. Boots lay on the floor, discarded garments were scattered about, and a musty odor prevailed.
“Nothing here,” said Jerry.
“Let’s look around carefully,” insisted Penny. “We may find something.”
Crossing the cabin she opened a closet door. Save for a pair of oilskins which hung from a nail, it was quite empty.
“Listen!” commanded Penny suddenly.
Jerry stood absolutely still, straining to hear. A long, low whistle reached his ears.
“The warning signal!” he exclaimed. “Come on, Penny, we’re getting out of here.”
CHAPTER 22
TRAPPED IN THE CABIN
Penny opened the door of the cabin only to close it quickly. She and Jerry both had heard men’s voices very close to the boat.
“It’s too late,” she whispered. “Those men have come back.”
“Not the girl?”
“No, they’re alone. But we’re in a trap. What shall we do?”
“We could make a dash for it. If we have to fight our way out, Salt will be there to help.”
“Let’s stick and see what happens, Jerry. We’re after information. We must expect to take a chance in order to get it.”
Jerry had been thinking more of Penny’s safety than his own. But thus urged, he turned the key in the lock, bolting the door from the inside.
A low rumble of voices reached the couple as they stood with ears pressed against the panel. But they were unable to distinguish words. Then presently, one of the seamen
moved close to the companionway.
“I’ll get it, Jake,” he called. “It’s down in the cabin.”
Jerry and Penny kept quiet as the man turned the door knob. He heaved angrily against the panel with his shoulder.
“Hey, Jake,” he shouted, “what’s the idea of locking the door?”
“I didn’t lock it.”
“Then Flora did.” Muttering under his breath, the seaman tramped back up on deck.
Perhaps ten minutes elapsed before Penny and Jerry heard a feminine voice speaking.
“That must be Flora,” whispered Penny. “What will happen when she tells them that she didn’t lock the door?”
The voices above rose louder and louder until the two prisoners were able to distinguish some of the words. Jake berated the girl as stupid while his companion showered abuse upon her until she broke down and wept.
“I never had the key,” they heard her wail. “I don’t know what became of it. You always blame me for everything that goes wrong, and I’m good and sick of it. If I don’t get better treatment I may tell a few things to the police. How would you like that?”
Jerry and Penny did not hear the response, but they recoiled as a loud crashing sound told them the girl had been given a cruel push into a solid object. Her cry of pain was drowned out by another noise, the sudden clatter of the motor boat engine.
Penny and Jerry gazed at each other with startled eyes.
“We’re moving,” she whispered.
Jerry started to fit the key into the door lock, only to have Penny arrest his hand.
“Let’s stay and see it through,” she urged. “This is our chance to learn the hide-out and perhaps solve the mystery of Atherwald’s disappearance.”
“All right,” the reporter agreed. “But I wish you weren’t in on this.”
From the tiny window of the cabin, he and Penny observed various landmarks as the boat proceeded downstream. Perhaps half an hour elapsed before the cruiser came to the mouth of a narrow river which emptied into the Kobalt. From that point on progress became slow and often the boat was so close to shore that Penny could have reached out and touched overhanging bushes.
“I didn’t know this stream was deep enough for a motor boat,” Jerry whispered. “We must be heading for a hide-out deep in the swamp.”
The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels Page 12