The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Heiney Growski produced records he had kept, showing a list of Gandiss factory employes known to be implicated in the plot.

  “Most of the persons involved are new employes who smuggled small pieces of brass out of the factory and turned them over to Sweeper Joe for pin money,” he revealed. “The leaders are Joe, Clayton, and Glowershick. With them behind bars, the ring will dissolve.”

  “There’s one thing I want to know,” Penny declared feelingly. “Who planted the brass in Sally’s locker while she was working at the factory?”

  No one could answer the question at the moment, but the following day, after police had repeatedly questioned the prisoners, the entire story became known. Sweeper Joe, the real instigator of the plot, had slipped into the locker room himself, and had placed the incriminating piece of evidence in Sally’s locker, using a master key. He had disliked her because several times she had resented his attempts to become friendly.

  Although police had obtained signed confessions, tangible evidence also was needed, for as Chief Bailey pointed out to Mr. Gandiss, the men might repudiate their statements when they appeared in court. Accordingly, police squads were sent to the Harpers’ to search the ashes for evidence, and also to the river to supervise dredging operations.

  Throughout the day, between trips to the hospital to see Sally, Jack and Penny watched the dredge boat make its trips back and forth over the area where the loot had been dropped.

  “I hope I wasn’t mistaken in the location,” Penny remarked anxiously as the vessel made repeated excursions without success. “After all, the night was dark, and I had no way of taking accurate bearings.”

  Across the river and barely visible, the blackened, smoking skeleton of the Florence lay stranded on a sandbar. Throughout the night, a fireboat had steadily pumped water into the burning vessel, but even so, fires had not been entirely extinguished.

  Morning papers had carried the encouraging information that there was only one known casualty as a result of the disaster. That many lives had not been lost was credited entirely to the courageous action of Captain Barker.

  Becoming weary of watching the monotonous dredging operations, Jack and Penny joined a throng of curious bystanders at the Harper property. Police had taken complete charge and were raking the smoldering ruins.

  “Find anything?” Jack asked a policeman he knew.

  The man pointed to a small heap of charred metal which had been taken from the basement. There were many pieces of brass, but the missing lantern was not to be found in the pile.

  However, from a member of the arson squad, they learned that enough evidence had been found to prove conclusively that the fire had been started with gasoline.

  “Ma Harper spilled the whole story,” one of the policemen related. “She and her husband were fairly straight until they became mixed up with Sweeper Joe, who has a police record of long standing. Ma had a black market business in silk stockings that didn’t amount to much. So far as we’ve been able to learn, she and a taxi driver whom we’ve caught, were the only ones involved. Her husband and the other men considered the stocking racket small potatoes for them.”

  After talking with the policemen for awhile, the young people wandered down to the river’s edge to see how dredging operations progressed.

  “They’re hauling something out of the water now!”Jack exclaimed. “By George! It looks like brass to me!”

  Finding a boat tied up at the dock, they borrowed it and rowed rapidly out to the dredge. There they saw that some of the metal which Sweeper Joe had dumped, had indeed been recovered.

  Prodding in the muddy pile in the bottom of the dredge net, Penny uttered a little scream of joy. “The brass lantern is here, Jack! What wonderful luck!”

  Seizing the slime-covered object, she washed it in the river. “Let’s take it straight to Sally at the hospital!” she urged.

  Because the lantern would be important evidence in the case against Glowershick, police aboard the dredge were unwilling for it to be removed. However, the young people carried the news to Sally.

  “Oh, I’m so glad the lantern has been recovered!” she cried happily. “Jack, you’ll win it in the race Friday.”

  Jack and Penny exchanged a quick, stricken glance. Temporarily, they had forgotten the race and all it meant to Sally. With her hands bandaged from painful burns, she never would be able to compete.

  “We’ll postpone the race,” Jack said gruffly. “It would be no competition if we held it without you.”

  “Nonsense,” replied Sally. “It will be weeks before I can use my hands well, so it would be stupid to postpone the race that long. Fortunately, the doctor says I may leave the hospital tomorrow, and I’ll not be scarred.”

  “If you can’t race, I won’t either,” declared Jack stubbornly.

  “Jack, you must!” Agitated, Sally raised herself on an elbow. “I’d feel dreadful if you didn’t compete. The race has meant everything to you.”

  “Not any more. Winning doesn’t seem important now. I’ll not sail in the race unless the Cat’s Paw is entered, and that’s final!”

  “Oh, Jack, you’re such an old mule!” Sally tossed her head impatiently on the pillow. Then she grinned. “If my Cat is in the race, you’ll sail?”

  “Sure,” he agreed, suspecting no trick.

  Sally laughed gleefully. “Then it’s settled! Penny will represent me in the race!”

  “I’ll do what?” demanded Penny.

  “You’ll skipper the boat in my stead!”

  “But I lack experience.”

  “You’ll win the trophy easily,” chuckled Sally. “Why, the Cat’s Paw is by far the fastest boat on the river.”

  “Says who?” demanded Jack, but without his old fire.

  “But I couldn’t race alone,” said Penny, decidedly worried. “Sally, would you be able to ride along as adviser and captain bold?”

  “I certainly would jump at the chance if the doctor would give permission. Oh, Penny, if only he would!”

  “The race isn’t until Friday,” Jack said encouragingly. “You can make it, Sally.”

  The girl pulled herself to a sitting posture, staring at her bandaged hands.

  “Yes, I can,” she agreed with quiet finality. “Why, I feel better already. Even if I have to be carried to the dock in a wheel chair, I’ll be in that race!”

  CHAPTER 25

  THE RACE

  A mid-afternoon sun beat down upon the wharves as a group of sailboats tacked slowly toward the starting line for the annual Hat Island trophy race. The shores were lined with spectators, and from the clubhouse where a band played, music carried over the water.

  At the tiller of the Cat’s Paw, Penny, in white blouse and slacks, hair bound tightly to keep it from blowing, sat nervous and tense. Sally, lounging on a cushion in the bow, seemed thoroughly relaxed. Though her arms remained in bandages, otherwise she had completely recovered from her unpleasant experience.

  “Isn’t the wind dying?” Penny asked anxiously. “Oh, Sally, I was hoping we’d have a good stiff breeze for the race! Handicapped as we are—”

  “We’re not handicapped,” Sally corrected. “Of course, I can’t handle the ropes or do much to help, but we have a wonderful boat that will prove more than a match for Jack’s Spindrift.”

  “You’re only saying that to give me confidence.”

  “No, I’m not,” Sally denied, turning to study the group of racing boats. “We’ll win the trophy! Just wait and see.”

  “If we do, it will be because of your brain and my brawn,” Penny chuckled. “I’ll admit I’m scared silly. I never was in an important race before.”

  Conversation ceased, for the boats now were bunching close to the starting line, maneuvering for position. Jack drifted by in the Spindrift, raising his hand in friendly greeting. As he passed, he actually glanced anxiously toward Sally, as if worried lest the girl overtax herself.

  “I hope he doesn’t try to throw the race just to be gall
ant,” Penny thought. “But I don’t believe he will, for then the victory would be a hollow one.”

  The change apparent in Jack so amazed Penny that she had to pinch herself to realize it was true. Since the night of the fire, he had visited Sally every day. In a brief span of hours, he had grown from a selfish, arrogant youth into a steady, dependable man. And it now was evident to everyone that he liked Sally in more than a friendly way.

  “Better come about now, Penny,” Sally broke in upon her thoughts. “Head for the starting line. The signal should be given any minute now.”

  The boats started in a close, tight group. Jack was over the line first, but with Cat’s Paw directly behind.

  In the first leg of the race, the two boats kept fairly even, with the others lagging. As the initial marker was rounded, there was a noticeable fall-off in the wind.

  “It’s going to be a drifting race,” Sally confirmed, raising troubled eyes to the wrinkled sail. “We’re barely drawing now and Jack’s boat has the edge in a calm.”

  The Spindrift skimmed merrily along, now in the lead by many yards. Though Penny held the tiller delicately, taking advantage of every breath of wind, the distance between the two boats rapidly increased.

  “We’re out of it,” she sighed. “We can’t hope to overtake Jack now.”

  Sally nodded gloomily. Shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, she gazed across the river, studying the triangular course. Far off-shore, well beyond the line the Spindrift and their own boat was taking, the surface of the water appeared rippled. Ahead of them there was only a smooth surface.

  “Penny,” she said quietly. “I believe there’s more breeze out there.”

  Penny nodded and headed the Cat’s Paw on the longer course out into the river. To many spectators ashore it appeared that the girls deliberately had abandoned the race, but aboard the River Queen, Captain Barker grinned proudly at his guests, Mr. Parker, and Mr. and Mrs. Gandiss.

  “Those gals are using their heads!” he praised. “Well, Mr. Gandiss, it looks as if the Barkers will keep the trophy another year!”

  “The race isn’t over yet,” Mr. Gandiss rumbled goodnaturedly.

  Aboard the Cat’s Paw, Penny and Sally were none too jubilant. Although sails curved with wind and they were footing much faster than the other boats, the course they had chosen would force them to sail a much longer distance. Could they cross the finish line ahead of the Spindrift?

  “Shouldn’t we turn now?” Penny asked impatiently. “Jack’s so much closer than we.”

  “Not yet,” Sally said calmly. “We must make it in one long tack. He will be forced to make several. That’s our only chance. If we misjudge the distance, we’re sunk.”

  Tensely, they watched the moving line of boats close along shore. The Spindrift seemed almost at the finish line, though her sails barely were drawing and she moved through the water at a snail’s pace.

  Again Penny glanced anxiously at her companion.

  “Now!” Sally gave the signal.

  Instantly Penny swung the Cat’s Paw onto the homeward tack. Every inch of her sails drawing, she swept toward the finish line.

  “We’re so much farther away than the Spindrift,” Penny groaned, crouching low so that her body would not deflect the wind. “Oh, Sally, will we make it?”

  “Can’t tell yet. It will be nip and tuck. But if we can keep this breeze—”

  The wind held, and the Cat’s Paw, sailing to windward of the finish line, moved along faster and faster. On the other hand, the Spindrift was forced to make several short tacks, losing distance each time. The boats drew even.

  Suddenly Sally relaxed, and slumped down on the cushions.

  “Just hold the old girl steady on her course,” she grinned. “That brass lantern is the same as ours!”

  “Then we’ll win?”

  “We can’t lose now unless some disaster should overtake us.”

  Even as Sally spoke, boat whistles began to toot. Sailing experts nodded their heads in a pleased way, for it was a race to their liking.

  A minute later, sweeping in like a house afire, the Cat’s Paw crossed the finish line well in advance of the Spindrift. Jack’s boat placed second with other craft far behind.

  Friendly hands assisted the girls ashore where they were spirited away to the clubhouse for rest and refreshments. As everyone crowded about to congratulate them upon victory, Jack joined the throng.

  “It was a dandy race,” he said with sincerity. “I tried hard to win, but you outsmarted me.”

  “Why, Jack!” teased Sally. “Imagine admitting a thing like that!”

  “Now don’t try to rub it in,” he pleaded. “I know I’ve been an awful heel. You probably won’t believe me, but I’m sorry about the way I acted—”

  “For goodness sakes, don’t apologize,” Sally cut him short. “I enjoyed every one of those squabbles we had. I hope we have a lot more of them.”

  “We probably will,” Jack warned, “because I expect to be underfoot quite a bit of the time.”

  Later in the afternoon, the brass lantern which had been turned over to the club by the police, was formally presented to Sally. She was warned however, that the trophy would have to be returned later for use in court as evidence against Adam Glowershick.

  The nicest surprise of all was yet to come. Captain Barker was requested by a committee chairman to kindly step forward into full view of the spectators.

  “Now what’s this?” he rumbled, edging away.

  But he could not escape. Speaking into a loudspeaker, the committee chairman informed the captain and delighted spectators, that in appreciation of what he had done to save the waterfront, a thousand dollar purse had been raised. Mr. Gandiss, whose factory certainly would have faced destruction had wharves caught fire, had contributed half the sum himself.

  “Why, beaching the Florence was nothing,” the captain protested, deeply embarrassed. “I can repair the damage done to the Queen with less than a hundred dollars.”

  “The money is yours, and you must keep it,” he was told. “You must have a use for it.”

  “I have that,” Captain Barker admitted, winking at his daughter. “There’s a certain young lady of my acquaintance who has been hankerin’ to go away to college.”

  “Oh, Pop.” Sally’s eyes danced. “How wonderful! I know where I want to go too!”

  “So you’ve been studying the school catalogues?” her father teased.

  Sally shook her head. Reaching for Penny’s hand, she drew her close.

  “I don’t need a catalogue,” she laughed. “I only know I’m scheduled for the same place Penny selects! She’s been my good luck star, and I’ll set my future course by her!”

  SIGNAL IN THE DARK

  CHAPTER 1

  HELP WANTED

  “The situation is getting worse instead of better, Penny. Three of our reporters are sick, and we’re trying to run the paper with only a third of our normal editorial staff.” Anthony Parker, publisher of the Riverview Star, whirled around in the swivel chair to face his daughter who sat opposite him in the private office of the newspaper. “Frankly, I’m up against it,” he added gloomily.

  Penny, a slim girl with deep, intelligent blue eyes, uncurled herself from the window ledge. Carefully, she dusted her brown wool skirt which had picked up a cobweb and streaks of dirt.

  “You could use a janitor around here too,” she hinted teasingly. “How about hiring me?”

  “As queen of the dustmop brigade?”

  “As a reporter,” Penny corrected. “I’m serious, Dad. You’re desperate for employes. I’m desperate for spending money. I have three weeks school vacation coming up, so why not strike a bargain?”

  “The paper needs experienced workers, Penny.”

  “Precisely.”

  “You’re a very good writer,” Mr. Parker admitted. “In fact, in months past you turned in some of the best feature stories the Star ever printed. But always they were special assignments.
We must have a reporter who can work a daily, eight-hour grind and be depended upon to handle routine stories with speed, accuracy and efficiency.”

  “And you think I am not what the doctor ordered?”

  “I think,” corrected Mr. Parker, “that you would blow your pretty little top by the end of the second day. For instance, it’s not easy nor pleasant to write obituaries. Yet it must be done, and accurately. On this paper, a new reporter is expected to do rewrites and other tedious work. You wouldn’t like it, Penny.”

  “I’d take it neatly in my stride, Dad. Why not try me and see?”

  Mr. Parker shook his head and began to read the three-star edition of the paper, its ink still damp fromthe press.

  “Give me one sound, logical reason for turning me down,” Penny persisted.

  “Very well. You are my daughter. Our editors might feel that they were compelled to treat you with special consideration—give you the best assignments—handle you with kid gloves.”

  “You could take care of that matter easily enough.”

  “If they took my instructions seriously, you might not like it,” the newspaper owner warned. “A reporter learns hard and bitter lessons. Mr. DeWitt, for instance, is a fine editor—our best, but he has a temper and—”

  The frosted glass door swung open and an elderly, slightly bald man in shirt sleeves slouched in. Seeing Penny, he would have retreated, had not Mr. Parker called him back.

  “What’s on your mind, DeWitt?”

  “Trouble,” growled the editor. “That no-good, addle-brained boy we hired as night police reporter, just blew up! Said it was too confining to sit in a police station all night waiting for something to happen! So he gets himself a job in a canning factory! Now we’re another employee short.”

  “Dad, let me take over the night police job!” Penny pleaded.

  Both her father and Mr. DeWitt smiled as if suffering from intense pain. “Penny,” Mr. Parker explained gently. “Night police work isn’t suitable for a girl. Furthermore, it is one of the most undesirable jobs on a paper.”

  “But I want to work somewhere, and you’re so stubborn!”