The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Sara turned slowly to face Penny. “You owe me no apology,” she said in a cold voice.

  “Then why do you dislike me? I always thought I was welcome around here until today. My father has given you considerable business.”

  “I’m sorry I spoke to you the way I did,” Sara replied stiffly and with no warmth. “It was rude of me.”

  “But why am I such poison?” Penny persisted. “What have I done?”

  “You honestly don’t know?”

  “Why, of course not. I shouldn’t be asking if I did.”

  Sara stared at Penny as if wondering whether or not to accept her remarks as sincere.

  “Do you only write for the papers?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice. “You never read them?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Penny was truly bewildered. “Has this misunderstanding something to do with the bridge dynamiting?”

  Sara nodded her head grimly. “It has,” she agreed. “Didn’t you see the morning paper?”

  “Why, no.”

  “Then wait a minute.” Sara turned and vanished into the boat shed. A moment later she reappeared, carrying a copy of the Star.

  “Read that,” she directed, thrusting the black headlines in front of Penny’s eyes. “Now do you understand why I feel that you’re no friend of mine?”

  CHAPTER 5

  HELD ON SUSPICION

  Penny gazed at the Riverview Star’s front page headline which proclaimed:

  “BURT OTTMAN ARRESTED AS SUSPECT IN BRIDGE DYNAMITING.”

  The opening paragraph of the news story, was even more dismaying. It began:

  “Acting upon information provided by Miss Penelope Parker, police today arrested Burt Ottman, owner of the Ottman Boat Dock, charging him with participation in the Friday night dynamiting of Thompson’s bridge.”

  Penny hastily scanned the remainder of the story and then protested: “But I never even mentioned your brother’s name to police, Miss Ottman! Why, I certainly didn’t think that he had any connection with the dynamiting.”

  “You certainly didn’t think, period,” Sara replied, though in a less severe tone. “You told police that the motorboat used in the dynamiting was one of our boats.”

  “Well, it looked like it to me. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

  “You weren’t mistaken. The boat definitely was one of ours. It was stolen from here about a month ago.”

  Penny drew a deep breath. “Then in that case, I don’t see why suspicion should fall upon your brother.”

  “Didn’t you tell police that a young man corresponding to his description was handling the boat?”

  “Indeed I didn’t.”

  “Then it must have been the watchman who provided the description,” Sara corrected. “At any rate, police identified the boat as ours, and arrested Burt. They have him at the station now.”

  “It never occurred to me that anyone would suspect your brother,” Penny said soberly. “Why, everyone along the river knows him well. It should be easy for him to prove his innocence.”

  “True, it should be,” Sara replied bitterly. “The arrest angered Burt, and he made matters worse by refusing to answer questions the police asked him.”

  “Oh, that was a mistake.”

  “Yes, but Burt has a great deal of pride. The police never should have arrested him.”

  “I certainly agree with you,” declared Penny, for she could not envision young Ottman as a saboteur. “Can’t your brother prove where he was last night at the time of the explosion?”

  “That’s just it.” Sara looked troubled as she reached to take the newspaper. “He refuses to offer any alibi.”

  “But you must know yourself where your brother spent his time.”

  “I wish I did. He left here about seven o’clock and didn’t return home until early this morning—just a half hour before the police came to arrest him.”

  “Oh!”

  “All the same, Burt had no connection with the dynamiting,” Sara said quickly. “He frequently stays out late at night. I’ve never questioned him, for it was none of my affair.”

  Penny scarcely knew what to reply. “I can understand now why you’re provoked at me,” she said after a moment. “But I assure you I had no intention of involving your brother with the police. I certainly never gave them his description.”

  Sara smiled and in a charming gesture extended her hand.

  “I’m sorry I talked as I did to you,” she apologized. “Forget it, will you?”

  “Of course,” Penny agreed generously. “And if there’s anything I can do to help—”

  The float creaked and both girls turned to see Bill Evans coming toward them.

  “Hi!” he greeted the girls impartially. “Miss Ottman, wonder if I can get you to help me?”

  “I suppose you’re having trouble with that motor of yours again,” sighed Sara. “Or should I say yet?”

  “I’ve lost it in the river,” Bill confessed sheepishly. “Blamed thing cost me sixty dollars second-hand too!”

  “In the river!” gasped Penny. “What did you do, get peeved and toss it overboard?”

  The saddened young man shook his head. “Guess I didn’t have it fastened on very well. Anyhow, just as I was leaving the dock, off she fell into about ten feet of water.”

  “I hope you buoyed the spot,” said Sara.

  “Yes, I marked it with a floating can. Some of the boys have been trying to get ’er up for me, but no luck. If you can do it, I’ll pay five dollars.”

  “Well, I’m pretty busy,” Miss Ottman said in a harassed voice. “Burt’s not here and it keeps me jumping to run the launch and rent the canoes. But I’ll see what I can do this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” Bill replied gratefully, turning away. “Thanks a lot.”

  When the young man was beyond hearing distance, Penny spoke again of Burt Ottman’s unfortunate arrest.

  “I’m sorry about everything, Miss Ottman,” she said earnestly. “If you wish, I’ll talk to the police and assure them that so far as I know, the saboteur did not resemble your brother. It was too dark for me to really see him.”

  “I’ll feel very grateful if you will speak a good word for Burt,” Sara responded. She sank down on an overturned bucket and pressed a hand to her temple. “Oh, my head’s splitting! Everything’s been coming at me so fast. The police were here questioning me and they twisted my remarks all around. I’ll have to raise bail for Burt, but where the money is coming from I don’t know.”

  The last of Penny’s resentment toward the girl faded away. From the jerky way Sara spoke, she knew that her thoughts were darting from one perplexing problem to another.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing or saying today,”Sara said miserably. “If you can forgive me—”

  “Of course! I don’t blame you a bit for speaking to me the way you did. May I borrow a sponge for a minute?”

  Sara smiled and nodded. Eager to make amends, she ran into the shed and returned with the desired article.

  “There’s still a little water in my boat,” Penny explained. “Thought I’d sop it up.”

  “Let me do it,” Sara offered. Without waiting for permission she went to the sailboat, and with a friendly nod at the astonished Louise, began to sponge out the cockpit.

  “I see you’ve collected one of Old Noah’s souvenirs,” she remarked a moment later, noticing the blue bottle which Penny had tossed into the bottom of the boat.

  “We found it floating in the water,” Louise volunteered. “The message was such a queer one—an invitation to take refuge in the ark during the Great Deluge. Someone’s idea of a joke, I suppose.”

  “It’s no joke,” Sara corrected. “Noah is a very real person. He actually lives in an ark too—a weird looking boat he built himself.”

  “You mean the old fellow actually believes there’s going to be another great flood?” Penny asked incredulously.

  “Oh, yes! Noah is so sure of it that he’s collected a r
egular menagerie of animals to live with him on the ark. He keeps dropping bottles into the water warning folks that the Great Deluge is coming. I fish out dozens of them here at the dock.”

  “Where is the ark?” Penny inquired curiously.

  Sara squeezed the last drop of water from thesponge and pointed diagonally upstream toward a gap in the trees.

  “That’s where Bug Run empties into the river,” she explained. “Noah has his ark grounded not far from its mouth. The currents are such that whenever he dumps his bottles in the water most of them come this way.”

  “Rather a nuisance I should think,” commented Penny.

  “Noah’s a pest!” Sara complained, straightening from her task. “I suppose he’s harmless, but those bottles of his create a hazard for our boats. Burt has asked him several times not to throw them in the water. He just keeps right on doing it.”

  The sun now was directly overhead and Penny and Louise knew that they were expected at their homes for luncheon. Thanking Sara for her services, they sailed on to their own dock. As they hastened through the park to a bus line, Penny remarked that it would be fun sometime to visit Noah and his ark.

  “Well, perhaps,” Louise rejoined without a great deal of enthusiasm.

  The buses were off schedule and for a long while the girls waited impatiently at the street corner. Penny was gazing absently toward a cafe nearby when a short, untidy man with shaggy gray hair, came out of the building.

  “Why, isn’t that Mr. Oaks, the bridge watchman?” she asked her chum.

  “It looks like him.”

  From far up the street an approaching bus could be seen, but Penny had lost all interest in boarding it.

  “Louise, let’s talk to Mr. Oaks,” she urged, starting toward him.

  “But we’ll miss our bus.”

  “Who cares about that?” Penny took Louise firmly by an elbow, pulling her along. “We may not have another chance to see Mr. Oaks. I want to ask him why he identified the saboteur as Sara Ottman’s brother.”

  CHAPTER 6

  OLD NOAH

  Carl Oaks saw the girls approaching, and recognized them with a curt nod of his head. He responded to their cheerful greeting, but with no warmth.

  “I was hoping to see you, Mr. Oaks,” Penny began the conversation. “Last night Louise and I had no opportunity to express our appreciation for the way you helped us.”

  “Well, I didn’t help myself any,” the old watchman broke in. “It was sure bad luck for me when your sailboat came floatin’ down the river. Now I’ve lost my job.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Mr. Oaks resumed in a whining tone. “I’ve never been strong and I can’t do hard work.”

  “Perhaps you can find another job as a watchman.”

  “No one will take me on after what happened last night.”

  “But it wasn’t your fault the bridge was dynamited.”

  “Folks always are ready to push a man down if they get the chance,” Mr. Oaks said bitterly. “No, I’m finished in this seedy town! I’d pull out if I had the price of a ticket.”

  Penny was decidedly troubled. “You mustn’t take that attitude, Mr. Oaks,” she replied. “Maybe I can help you.”

  The watchman looked interested, but amused. “How can you help me?” he demanded.

  “My father owns the Riverview Star. Perhaps he can use an extra watchman at the newspaper building. If not, he may know someone who will employ you.”

  “I’ve always worked around the waterfront,” Mr. Oaks returned, brightening a bit. “You know I ain’t able to do much walkin’ or any heavy lifting. Maybe your father can get me another job on a bridge.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Penny responded. “I’ll talk to him. Just give me your address so I can notify you later.”

  Mr. Oaks scribbled a few lines on the back of an old envelope and handed it to her. He did not express appreciation for the offer Penny had made, accepting it as his just due.

  “I suppose the police questioned you about the bridge dynamiting,” she remarked, pocketing the address.

  “Sure, they gave me the works,” he acknowledged, shrugging. “Kept me at the station half the night. Then this morning they had me identify one of the suspects.”

  “Not Burt Ottman?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t identify him as the saboteur?” Penny inquired in dismay.

  “I told the police he looked like the fellow. And he did.”

  “But how could you see his face?” Penny protested. “The motorboat traveled so fast! Even when the man crawled out of the water and ran, one could only tell that he was tall and thin.”

  “He looked like young Ottman to me,” the watchman insisted stubbornly. “Well, guess I’ll shove on. You talk to your father and let me know about that job. I can use ’er.”

  Without giving the girls a chance to ask another question, Mr. Oaks moved off down the street.

  “Now if things aren’t in a nice mess,” Penny remarked as she and Louise retraced their way to the bus stop. “No wonder the police held Burt Ottman! I don’t see how Mr. Oaks could have thought he resembled the saboteur.”

  “I’m sure I didn’t get a good look at the fellow,”Louise returned. “Mr. Oaks must have wonderful eyes, to say the least.”

  After a ten minute wait, a bus came along, and the girls rode to their separate homes. Penny ate luncheon, helped Mrs. Weems with the dishes and then slipped away to her father’s newspaper office.

  An early afternoon edition of the Star had just rolled from the press. Entering the editorial room, Penny noted that it appeared to have been swept by a whirlwind. Discarded copy lay on the floor, and there were more wads of paper around the scrap baskets than in them.

  Jerry Livingston’s battered typewriter served as a comfortable foot rest for his unpolished shoes. Seeing Penny, he removed them to the floor, and grinned at her.

  “Hello, Miss Pop-Eye!” he said affectionately. “How’s our little sailor?”

  “Never mind,” returned Penny. “What’s this I hear about Burt Ottman being arrested by the police?”

  “That’s how it is.” The grin faded from the reporter’s face. “Tough on DeWitt too.”

  “DeWitt?” Penny inquired. She could not guess what connection the editor might have with the dynamiting case.

  Jerry glanced about the news room to make certain that DeWitt was not within hearing. In a low tone he confided:

  “Didn’t you know? Burt Ottman is DeWitt’s first cousin. It rather puts him in a spot, being kin to a saboteur.”

  “Nothing has been proved against Ottman yet.”

  “All the same, it looks bad for the kid. When the story came in it gave DeWitt a nasty jolt.”

  “I should think so,” nodded Penny. “Why, I never dreamed that he was related to the Ottmans.”

  “Neither did anyone else in the office. But you have to hand it to DeWitt. He took it squarely between the eyes. Didn’t even play the story down nor ask your father to soft pedal it.”

  “Mr. DeWitt is a real newspaper man.”

  “Bet your life!” Jerry agreed with emphasis. “He’s gone young Ottman’s bail to the tune of ten thousand dollars.”

  “Why, that must represent a good portion of his life time savings.”

  “Sure, but DeWitt says the kid has been framed, and he’s going to stand by him.”

  “I think myself that Burt Ottman was too far away to be properly identified. I mean to tell the police so, too.”

  “Well, we all hope for DeWitt’s sake that it is a mistake,” Jerry said soberly. “But the evidence is stacking up fast. The motorboat came from Ottman’s. Carl Oaks said he recognized the saboteur as young Ottman. Then this morning police found a handkerchief with an initial ‘O’ lying along the shore not far from where the fellow crawled out of the water.”

  “Circumstantial evidence.”

  “Maybe so,” Jerry agr
eed with a shrug, “but unless young Ottman gets a good lawyer, he’s likely to find himself doing a long stretch.”

  Deeply troubled by the information, Penny went on toward her father’s private office. As she passed the main copy desk where Editor DeWitt worked, she noticed that his face was white and tense. Although he usually had a smile for her, he barely glanced up and did not speak.

  Penny tapped twice and entered her father’s office. Mr. Parker had just finished dictating a letter to his secretary who quietly gathered up her notebook and departed. The newspaper owner pretended to glance at the calendar on his desk.

  “Unless I’m all muddled, this is Saturday, not Thursday,” he greeted his daughter teasingly. “Aren’t you a bit mixed up?”

  “Maybe so,” Penny admitted, seating herself on a corner of the desk.

  “You seldom honor me with a call except to collect your Thursday allowance.”

  “Oh, I’m not concerned with money these days,”Penny said, trying to balance a paper weight on her father’s head. “It’s this dynamiting case that has me all tied in a knot.”

  “Stop it, Penny!” Irritably, Mr. Parker squirmed in his chair. “This is an office, not a child’s play room!”

  “Try to give me your undivided attention, Dad. I want you to do me a favor.”

  “How about granting me one first? Please stop playing with the gadgets on my desk!”

  “Why, of course,” grinned Penny, backing away. “Now about this job for Carl Oaks—”

  “Job?”

  “Yes, he was relieved of duty at the Thompson bridge, you know. It was partly my fault. So I want you to square matters by finding other work for him.”

  “Penny, I am not an employment agency! Anyway, what do I know about the man?”

  “I owe him a job, Dad. He says he likes to work around the waterfront. Can’t you get him something to do? Oh, yes, it has to be an easy job because he can’t walk and he can’t lift anything.”

  “How about a nice pension?” Mr. Parker demanded. He sighed and added, “Well, I’ll see what I can do for him. Now run along, because I have work to get out.”

  Feeling certain that her father would find a suitable position for the old watchman, Penny went directly from the newspaper office to Louise Sidell’s home. After relating all the latest news, she asked her chum if she would not enjoy another excursion to the river.