Saboteurs on the River Part 2

"Penny!" the newspaper man exclaimed, no less dumbfounded. "What are you and Louise doing here? And in those wet clothes?"

"Policing the bridge. Dad, there's a big story for you here! A saboteur just blew up one of the piers by ramming it with a motorboat!"

"I thought I heard an explosion as I was driving down Clark Street!"

exclaimed Mr. Parker. Opening the car door, he leaped out and wrapped his overcoat about Penny's s.h.i.+vering shoulders. "Now tell me exactly what happened."

As calmly as they could, the girls reported how the saboteur had dynamited the bridge.

"This is a front page story!" the newspaper owner cried jubilantly.

"Penny, you and Louise take my car and scoot for home. When you get there call the _Star_ office. Have Editor DeWitt send a reporter to help me--Jerry Livingston, if he's around. We'll need a crack photographer too--Salt Sommers."

"I can get the call through much quicker by running to the drugstore."

Penny jerked her head toward a cl.u.s.ter of buildings not far from the bridge entrance. "As for going home at a moment like this, never!"

"So you want a case of pneumonia?" Mr. Parker barked. "How'd you get wet anyhow?"

"Sailboat," Penny answered briefly. She took the car keys from her father, and pressed them upon Louise.

"But I don't want to go if you don't," her chum argued.

"You're more susceptible to pneumonia than I am," Penny said, giving her a little push. "Dash on home, and get into warm, dry clothing. And don't forget to take off that life preserver before you hop into bed!"

Thus urged, Louise reluctantly backed Mr. Parker's car to the main street, and drove away.

"Now I'll slosh over to the drugstore and call the _Star_ office," Penny offered briskly. "Lend me a nickel, Dad."

"I'm crazy as an eel to let you stay," Mr. Parker muttered, fumbling in his pocket for a coin. "You should have gone with Louise."

"Let's argue about that tomorrow, Dad. Right now we must work fast unless we want other newspapers to scoop us on this story."

While her father remained behind to direct bridge traffic, Penny ran to the nearest drugstore. Darting into the one telephone booth ahead of an astonished woman customer, she called Editor DeWitt of the _Star_.

Tersely she relayed her father's orders.

"Jerry and Salt will be out there in five minutes," DeWitt promised. "Now what can you give us on the explosion? Did you witness it?"

"Did I?" echoed Penny. "Why, I practically caused it!"

With no further encouragement, she launched into a vivid, eye-witness account of the bridge dynamiting. As she talked, a re-write man on another telephone, took down everything she reported.

"Now about the saboteur's motorboat," he said as she finished. "Can you give us a description of it?"

"Not a very good one," Penny admitted. "It looked like one of Ottman's rented boats with an outboard attached. In fact, Louise and I saw a similar craft earlier in the evening which was cruising not far from the bridge."

"Then you think the saboteur may have rented his boat from Ottman's?"

"Well, it's a possibility."

"You've given us some good stuff!" the rewrite man praised. "DeWitt's getting out an extra. Shoot us any new facts as soon as you can."

"Dad's on the job full blast," Penny answered. "He'll soon have all the details for you."

Slamming out of the telephone booth, she ran back to the bridge. Her father no longer directed traffic, but had turned the task over to a pompous motorist who thoroughly enjoyed his authority.

"You can't cross, young lady," he said as she sought to pa.s.s him.

"Bridge's unsafe."

"I'm a reporter for the _Star_," Penny replied confidently.

The man stared at her bedraggled clothing. "A reporter?" he inquired dubiously.

Just then a police car, its siren shrilling, sped up to the bridge. Close behind came another car which bore a printed card "_Star_" on its winds.h.i.+eld. It braked to a standstill nearby and out leaped two young men, Jerry Livingston and Salt Sommers.

"h.e.l.lo, Penny!" Jerry greeted her. "Might have known you'd be here.

Where's the Chief?"

"Somewhere, sleuthing around," Penny answered. "I lost him a minute ago when I telephoned the _Star_ office."

Salt Sommers, a felt hat c.o.c.ked low over his eyes, began unloading photographic equipment from the coupe.

"Where'll I get the best shots?" he asked Penny. "Other side or this?"

"Under the bridge," she directed crisply. "None of the damage shows from above."

Salt slung the heavy camera over his shoulder, and disappeared down the incline which led to the river bed.

Before Jerry and Penny could move away, Mr. Parker hurried up with the watchman in tow.

"This is Carl Oaks, bridge guard," he announced without preliminary.

"Take him over to the drugstore, Jerry, and put him on the wire. We want his complete story for the _Star_."

"Not so fast," drawled a voice from behind. "We want to talk to Carl Oaks."

One of the policemen, a detective, moved over to the group and began to question the watchman.

"It wasn't my fault the bridge was dynamited," the old fellow whined. "I shouted at the boatman and fired twice."

"He got away?"

"Yeah. Jumped overboard before the boat struck the pier. Last I saw of him, he was climbing out of the river on the other sh.o.r.e."

"At what point?"

"Right over there." The watchman indicated a clump of maples beyond the far side of the bridge. "I could see him plainly from the beach."

"And what were _you_ doing on the beach?" questioned the detective sharply.

"Ask her," Carl Oaks muttered, eyeing Penny.

"Mr. Oaks helped my friend and me when our sailboat upset," she supported his story. "It really wasn't his fault that he was away from his post at the time of the explosion."