The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (119 page)

Penny hesitated. She very much wished to say something to the editor about the dynamiting case, yet was reluctant to bring up the subject.

“Mr. DeWitt, I’m sorry about Burt Ottman,” she began awkwardly. “I hope you don’t think that I tried to throw suspicion on him by telling police——”

“Of course not,” he cut in. “It’s just a case of circumstantial evidence. Burt has a good lawyer now. I’m not a bit worried.”

The harassed expression of DeWitt’s face belied his words. He had always been known to fellow workers as a hard yet just man, but now it seemed to Penny that the veteran newspaperman was losing his grip. Though he fancied he disguised his feelings, it was plain to all that Burt Ottman’s arrest had shaken him.

“Guess I won’t wait for Jerry,” Penny said, turning away.

Leaving the newspaper office, she dropped in at Foster’s Drugstore to perch herself on a counter stool.

“I’ll take a deluxe dose of Hawaiian Delight with whipped cream,” she told the soda fountain clerk.

“No pineapple,” he said sadly. “And no whipped cream.”

“Then make it a double chocolate malted.”

“We’re out of chocolate. Sorry.”

“Just bring me an empty dish and let me look at it for awhile,” Penny grinned.

“How about a nice vanilla sundae with crushed walnuts?” the clerk coaxed.

“Oh, all right,” Penny gave in. “And don’t spare the walnuts!”

She ate the ice cream leisurely and had finished the last spoonful when a young man breezed into the drugstore. Recognizing Jerry Livingston, Penny signaled frantically. Without seeing her, he dodged into a telephone booth. He slammed out again in a moment and sat down at the counter.

“Cup o’ Java and make it strong,” he ordered carelessly.

“Sorry, sir, no coffee served without meals,” teased Penny from another stool. “How about a nice vanilla sundae with crushed walnuts?”

Jerry grinned as he saw her and moved over to an adjoining stool.

“Where was the fire?” she inquired curiously.

“At the Fulton Warehouse along the dock. It was deliberately set.”

“By saboteurs?”

“Looks that way. Workmen discovered the blaze in time to prevent the whole plant going up in smoke. Just got through telephoning the story to DeWitt.”

“Isn’t the
Star
building across the street?”

“Sure, but that’s a long walk. Besides, I’m due at the airport for my flying lesson.”

“Your which?” inquired Penny alertly.

“I’m training to be an angel,” Jerry laughed. “I figure it like this. I can’t get along without my six cups o’ Java a day, so the only place for me is in Uncle Sam’s Air Corps.”

“How soon will you be leaving, Jerry?”

“Not until I’ve completed my local training. Oh, I’ll probably be grinding out news stories for quite some time yet.”

Penny drew a quick breath and changed the subject. One by one familiar faces were disappearing from the
Star
office, but somehow it gave her a special twinge to think that Jerry soon must go. In the pursuit of news they had shared many an adventure.

“Jerry,” she said abruptly, “Dad told me you were able to get Carl Oaks a job.”

“One of sorts. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s soft. Oaks is hired by the Riverview Coal Company to guard their barge that’s tied up at Dock 10.”

“Thanks a lot, Jerry, for going to so much trouble. Mr. Oaks ought to be quite grateful.”

“Not that fellow! He held out for more pay.”

“Are the duties hard?”

“Hard? All he has to do is stay aboard the barge and see that no one tries to make off with it.”

“I can’t imagine anyone trying to steal a coal barge,” laughed Penny.

“Oh, it’s done now and then,” Jerry rejoined carelessly. “These days they’ll even steal the hawsers off a boat.”

“What value would the rope have to a thief?”

“Hawsers are expensive,” the reporter explained. “Right now it’s almost impossible to get good grade hemp. A hawser of any size commands a big price second hand.”

“How do the thieves get the ropes, Jerry?”

“Oh, they wait for a dark or foggy night and then slip up to an unguarded boat and cut her loose.”

“Why, that’s a form of sabotage!” Penny cried indignantly.

“Sure, it is. The boats float free and unless they’re spotted, they’re likely to collide with other incoming vessels. Only last week an empty coal barge was cut loose. She crashed into an oil tanker and rammed a hole in her.”

“Then Carl Oaks really has an important job,”Penny said thoughtfully.

“Important in the sense that he’s got to keep his eyes open. But he’s not required to do any hard work. All he has to do is sit.”

“Then he should like the job,” Penny smiled, sliding down from the stool. “When does he start work?”

“He took over this morning.”

“Maybe I’ll ankle down to Dock 10 and talk to him.”

“Better wrap yourself in cellophane first,” Jerry advised. “That is, if you value your peaches and cream complexion.”

Penny was not certain what the reporter meant, but a little later, approaching the coal docks, she understood. Nearby was a private railroad yard and cars were being loaded from the many mountains of coal heaped on the ground. With the wind blowing toward the river, the dust laden air blackened her hands and clothing.

Penny stood for a moment watching a coal car race down from a steep switch-back, and then wandered along the docks in search of Mr. Oaks.

She came presently to the barge for which she searched. There was no sign of anyone aboard. A long ladder ascended from the dock to the vessel’s deck. Penny hesitated and then decided to climb it. When she was midway up, a man, his face blackened with coal, stepped from a shed.

“Hey, where you think you’re going?” he shouted sternly.

“I’m looking for Mr. Oaks,” Penny explained, hugging the ladder.

“Oaks? The new watchman?”

“Yes. He’s aboard, isn’t he?”

“He should be. Well, go on up, I guess, but it’s against regulations.”

Penny climbed the remaining rungs of the ladder and stepped out on the deck of the barge. She was chagrined to see that she had wiped up a great deal of coal dust.

“Oh, Mr. Oaks!” she called. “Are you here?”

From the tiny deck house the old man emerged. No smile brightened his smudged face as he recognized Penny.

“This is a swell job your father got me!” he greeted her.

“Why, Mr. Oaks, you don’t act as if you like it,”Penny replied, walking toward him. “What seems to be wrong?”

“The pay’s poor,” he said crossly. “I’m expected to stay on this rotten old tub twenty-four hours a day with only time off for my meals. It’s so dirty around here that if a fellow’d take a deep breath he’d get a hunk o’ coal stuck in his nose!”

“It
is
rather unpleasant,” Penny admitted. “But then, the wind can’t always blow in this direction.”

“I want you to ask your father to find me another job,” the watchman went on. “I’d like one on a bridge again.”

“Well, I don’t know. After what happened—”

“And whose fault was it?” Mr. Oaks interrupted angrily. “I helped you and that girl friend of yours, didn’t I? Well, now it’s your turn to do me a little favor, ’specially since it wasn’t my fault I lost the bridge job.”

“I’ll talk to Dad,” Penny said. Annoyed by the watchman’s attitude, she did not prolong the interview, but quickly climbed down from the barge.

From the coal yards she followed the river for a distance, coming presently to more pleasant surroundings. She was still thinking about Carl Oaks as she approached the Ottman boathouse. Sara and a young man were deeply engrossed in examining a large metal object which appeared to be a homemade diving hood.

For a moment Penny assumed that Sara’s companion was Bill Evans. However, as the young man turned slightly, she saw his face.

“Why, it’s Burt Ottman!” she thought. “He’s back on his old job after being released from jail. I’m going to talk to him and see what he’ll say!”

CHAPTER 10

SALVAGE AND SABOTEURS

Sara Ottman and her brother glanced up from their work as Penny approached the dock. Burt was a tall young man of twenty-six, brown of face, with muscles hardened by heavy, outdoor work. He nodded to Penny, but his expression did not disclose whether or not he bore resentment.

“Anything we can do for you?” he asked, his manner impersonal.

“No, I just happened to be over this way and thought I’d stop for a minute. What’s this strange contraption?” Penny indicated the queer looking metal hood.

“A diving apparatus Burt made,” Sara explained briefly. “We’re using it to get Bill Evans’ motor out of the river.”

“How does it work?”

“Watch and see,” invited Sara. “Burt’s going to make the first dive.”

Though Penny felt that she was none too welcome at the dock, she nevertheless decided to remain. Burt disappeared into the shed, reappearing a minute later in bathing trunks. He and Sara loaded the diving hood into a boat and rowed to the nearby area which had been marked with a can buoy.

Burt adjusted the metal helmet over his head and lowered himself into the water. Once her brother was beneath the surface, Sara worked tirelessly at the pump, feeding him air. Soon Bill Evans drifted by in another boat, watching the salvage operation like a worried mother.

“Think you’ll get ’er?” he asked Sara. “Doggone if I know how an engine could be so hard to find.”

Sara did not bother to answer, but kept pumping steadily.

After many minutes, the metal hood appeared on the surface. Burt Ottman lifted it from his head and took a deep breath.

“Any luck?” Bill asked anxiously.

“I’ll have the engine up in a little bit,” Burt replied. Breasting himself into the boat, he pulled on a rope tied around his waist. With Sara helping, he gradually hauled the lost motor from its muddy bed.

“Oh, say, that’s swell!” Bill cried jubilantly. “How can I thank you?”

“Don’t forget the five dollars,” Sara reminded him. “Burt and I can use it.”

“Oh, sure,” Bill replied, though the light faded from his eyes. “I haven’t got it on me right now. Can you wait a few days?”

“Waiting is the best thing we do,” Sara assured him. “Better get this mess of junk cleaned and oiled up right away or it won’t be worth a dime.”

“I will,” promised Bill. “Just dump ’er on the dock for me, will you?”

Sara and her brother delivered the motor to the designated place, and then rowed to their own platform where Penny waited. From the look of their faces it was evident that they never expected to be paid for their work.

Alighting from the boat, Sara noticed one of Old Noah’s floating bottles which had snagged against the edge of the platform. Rather irritably she fished it from the water. Without bothering to read the message inside, she hurled it high on the shore.

“Sara, you’re in an ugly mood today,” her brother observed, smiling.

“I get tired of seeing those bottles!” she replied. “I get tired of doing so much charity work too! How are we to meet our expenses, pay for a lawyer, and—”

“Never mind,” Burt interrupted quietly.

Sara subsided into silence. They moored the boat and Burt, carrying the diving bell with him, went into the shed.

“Guess you think I’m a regular old crab,” Sara remarked, turning toward Penny.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Penny answered. “I’m sure you have plenty to worry you.”

“I do! Since the papers published the bridge dynamiting story, our business has shrunk to almost nothing. Burt’s case is coming up for trial in about ten days. I don’t know how we’ll pay the lawyer. If Mr. DeWitt hadn’t put up bail, my brother still would be in jail.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t feel so discouraged,” Penny said cheerfully. “Burt will be cleared.”

“I wish I could think so. He’s innocent, but to prove it is another matter.”

“Can’t your brother provide an alibi? Where was he at the time of the dynamiting?”

“I don’t know,” Sara admitted, frowning. “Burt’s peculiar. I tried to talk things over with him, but he says it’s a disagreeable subject. He hasn’t told me where he was Friday night.”

Burt’s appearance in the doorway of the shed brought the conversation to an abrupt end. Before Penny could speak to him, a group of small boys ran along the bank some distance away.

“
Saboteur! Saboteur!
” they shouted jeeringly, pointing at Burt. One of the lads threw a clod of dirt which struck a moored rowboat.

“You see how it is!” Sara cried wrathfully.

“Don’t take things so seriously,” Burt advised, though his own eyes burned with an angry light. “They’re only youngsters.”

“I can’t stand much more,” Sara cried, running into the shed, and closing the door.