The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (241 page)

A check by police revealed that Potts had spent only $2,000 of the total amount stolen. Mr. Rhett declared that this sum easily could be made up, so that the bank would sustain no loss. He was inclined to be lenient with his secretary, but police were insistent that the man be brought to trial.

Jerry and Penny, knowing that they had a big story to write, did not tarry long at the police station. However, the police desk sergeant promised to keep them informed of any new developments in the case. True to his word, he called them soon after they reached the
Star
office. His news was that Antón had been captured by the police and now was safely locked in a jail cell.

“Well, that rings the gong on the case,” Jerry announced as he hung up the telephone. “Thanks to you, Penny, it’s all wound up.”

“And it’s nearly edition time!” barked the city editor. “Let’s get going on that story.”

He looked at Jerry who was known as the best writer on the paper, and then his eyes moved on to Penny who waited with bated breath.

“This was her story from start to finish,” said Jerry as the editor hesitated.

“Get going!” ordered the editor again, and now he looked straight at Penny. “Give it to me in takes.”

Penny hurried to a typewriter. The lead, telling of Mr. Rhett’s return, Potts’ arrest and recovery of the stolen bonds, almost wrote itself. Keeping her own part and Jerry’s entirely out of the story, she wrote smoothly and with speed.

When she had finished half a page, she called:“Copy boy!” and ripping the sheet of paper from the typewriter gave it to him to carry to the editor’s desk.

With a fresh sheet in the machine, she wrote on until she had a second “take” ready. Again she called the copy boy and, as he snatched it from her hand, rolled still another sheet into the typewriter.

At last she was on the final page and glanced over it before she typed “30” at the end. The story had been well told, written tersely in the manner DeWitt liked. With a feeling of exultation, she realized she had done a good job.

Getting to her feet, she dropped the last page into the copy basket. Earlier sheets already had been copy-read and were in the process of being set into type. Any moment now, the edition would roll and papers would be on the street.

Penny turned from the desk to see Jerry sitting with his feet propped up on one of the tables. He was gazing at her quizzically and grinning.

“Well, you did it again, Penny!” he remarked.

“We did it together,” she corrected.

“With the help of our silent partner,” he added lightly.

“Silent partner?”

“The hurricane. It damaged a lot of Riverview property, but on the other side of the ledger, it helped write ‘30’ to the Rhett case.”

Penny nodded as she reached for her hat and raincoat. Just then, a copy boy ran up.

“Telephone for you,” he said. “It’s your housekeeper, Mrs. Weems. She wants to know if you’re safe.”

“Safe and sound and on my way home,” laughed Penny. “Tell her I’ve already started.”

“And that she’s being driven by her faithful chauffeur,” chuckled Jerry, as he reached for his hat. “Which reminds me, we have a little package to deliver to the Rhetts’.”

“The Zudi drum! I forgot all about it!”

“Haven’t you forgotten another important matter too?” teased Jerry, escorting her through the swinging gate. “Me, for instance.”

“You?”

“My reward for tonight’s work. Girl reporters, even cute little numbers like you, can’t snatch my bylines without paying the piper!”

“And what fee do you require?” Penny asked with pretended innocence.

“We’ll go into that later,” he chuckled, pinning her neatly into a shadowy corner of the vestibule. “Just now, I’ll take a little kiss on deposit!”

SWAMP ISLAND

CHAPTER 1

THE BEARDED STRANGER

With slow, smooth strokes, Penny Parker sent the flat-bottomed skiff cutting through the still, sluggish water toward a small point of wooded land near the swamp’s edge.

In the bottom of the boat, her dark-haired companion, Louise Sidell, sat with her hand resting carelessly on the collar of her dog, Bones, who drowsed beside her. The girl yawned and shifted cramped limbs.

“Let’s go home, Penny,” she pleaded. “We have all the flowers you’ll need to decorate the banquet tables tonight.”

“But not all I want,” Penny corrected with a grin. “See those beautiful Cherokee roses growing over there on the island point? They’re nicer than anything we have.”

“Also harder to get.”

Louise craned her neck to gaze at the wild, tangled growth which rose densely from the water’s edge.

“Remember,” she admonished, “when Trapper Joe rented us this boat his last words were: ‘Don’t go far, and stay in the skiff.’”

“After we gather the flowers, we’ll start straight home, Lou. We’re too near the edge of the swamp to lose our way.”

Disregarding Louise’s frown, Penny tossed a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes, and dug in again with the oars.

A giant crane, disturbed by the splash, flapped up from the tall water grass. As he trumpeted angrily, Bones stirred and scrambled to his feet.

“Quiet, Bones!” Louise ordered, giving him a reassuring pat. “It’s only a saucy old crane.”

The dog stretched out on the decking again, but through half-closed eyes watched the bird in flight.

“Lou, hasn’t it been fun, coming here today?”Penny demanded in a sudden outbreak of enthusiasm. “I’ve loved every minute of it!”

“You certainly have! But it’s getting late and we’re both hot and tired. If you must have those flowers, let’s get them quickly and start home.”

The two girls, students at Riverview high school, had rented the skiff early that afternoon from Trapper Joe Scoville, a swamper who lived alone in a shack at the swamp’s edge.

For three hours now, they had idled along the entrance channel, gathering water lilies, late-blooming Cherokee roses, yellow jessamine, and iris.

The excursion had been entirely Penny’s idea. That night in a Riverview hotel, her father, Anthony Parker, publisher of the
Riverview Star
, was acting as host to a state newspapermen’s convention. He had handed Penny twenty dollars, with instructions to buy flowers for the banquet tables.

Penny, with her usual flare for doing things differently, had decided to save the money by gathering swamp blooms.

“These flowers are nicer than anything we could have bought from a florist,” she declared, gazing appreciatively at the mass of blooms which dripped water in the basket at her feet.

“And think what you can do with twenty dollars!” her chum teased.

“Seventeen. Remember, we owe Trapper Joe three dollars for boat rental.”

“It will be four if we don’t call it a day. Let’s get the flowers, if we must, and start home.”

“Fair enough,” Penny agreed.

Squinting at the lowering sun, she guided the skiff to a point of the low-lying island. There she held it steady while her chum stepped out on the spongy ground.

Bones, eager to explore, leaped after her and was off in a flash before Louise could seize his collar.

Penny followed her chum ashore, beaching her skiff in a clump of water plants. “This place looks like a natural haunt for cottonmouths or moccasins,” she remarked. “We’ll have to watch out for snakes.”

Already Louise was edging along in the soft muck, alertly keeping an eye upon all overhead limbs from which a poisonous reptile might drop.

Annoyed by thorny bushes which teethed into her jacket, she turned to protest to Penny that the roses were not worth the trouble it would take to gather them.

But the words never were spoken.

For just then, from some distance inland, came the sound of men’s voices. Louise listened a moment and retreated toward the boat.

“Someone is here on the island,” she whispered nervously. “Let’s leave!”

All afternoon the girls had floated through the outer reaches of the swamp without seeing a single human being. Now to hear voices in this isolated area was slightly unnerving even to Penny. But she was not one to turn tail and run without good reason.

“Why should we leave?” she countered, careful to keep her voice low. “We have a perfect right to be here. They’re probably fishermen from Riverview.”

Louise was not so easily reassured.

“We have all the flowers you need, Penny. Please, let’s go!”

“You wait for me in the boat, Lou. I’ll slip over to the bank and get the roses. Only take a minute.”

Stepping carefully across a half-decayed log, Penny started toward the roses, visible on a bank farther up shore.

Bones trotted a few feet ahead of her, his sensitive nose to the ground.

“Go back, Bones,” Penny ordered softly. “Stay with Louise!”

Bones did not obey. As Penny overtook him and seized the trailing leash, she suddenly heard voices again.

Two men were talking several yards away, completely hidden by the bushes. Their words brought her up short.

“There hain’t no reason to be afeared if we use our heads,” the one was saying. “Maybe me and the boys will help if ye make it worth our while, but we hain’t aimin’ to tangle with no law.”

The voice of the man who answered was low and husky.

“You’ll help me all right, or I’ll tell what I know! Only one thing brought me back here. I aim to get the guy who put me up! I was in town last night but didn’t get sight of him. I’m going back soon’s I leave here.”

Penny had been listening so intently that she completely forgot Bones.

The dog tugged hard at the leash which slipped from the girl’s hand. She scrambled for it, only to have Bones elude her and dart into the underbrush.

From the boat, Louise saw her pet escaping. Fearful that he would be lost, she called shrilly:“Bones! Bones! Come back here!”

The dog paid no heed. But Louise’s cry had carried far and served to warn those inland that someone had landed on the point.

A moment of dead silence ensued. Then Penny heard one of the men demand sharply: “What was that?”

Waiting for no more, she backtracked toward the boat. Before she could reach it, the bushes behind her parted.

A tall, square-shouldered man whose jaw was covered with a jungle growth of red beard, peered out at her. He wore a wide-brimmed, floppy, felt hat and loose fitting work clothes with sturdy boots.

His eyes, fierce and hostile, fastened directly upon Penny.

“Git!” he said harshly.

Penny retreated a step, then held her ground.

“Please, sir, our dog is lost in the underbrush,” she began. “We can’t leave without him—”

“Git!” the man repeated. As he started toward her, Penny saw that he carried a gun in the crook of his arm.

CHAPTER 2

ALERTING ALL CARS

Penny was no coward; neither was she foolhardy.

A second look at the bearded stranger, and her mind telegraphed the warning: “This man means business! Better play along.”

The man fingered his gun. “Git goin’ now!” he ordered sharply. “And don’t come back!”

In the boat, Louise already had reached nervously for the oars. She wet her fingers and whistled for Bones, but the dog, off on a fascinating scent, had been completely swallowed up by the rank undergrowth.

“Ye heard me?” the stranger demanded. “I be a patient man, but I hain’t speakin’ agin.”

Penny hesitated, half tempted to defy the swamper.

“Let Bones go,” Louise called. “Come on.”

Thus urged, Penny backed toward the skiff. Stumbling over a vine, she caught her balance and scrambled awkwardly into the boat.

Louise pushed off with the oars, stroking fast until they were well out into the channel. Only then did she give vent to anger.

“That mean man! Now we’ve lost Bones for good. We’ll never get him back.”

“Maybe we will.”

“How? We’ll never dare row back there today. He’s still watching us.”

Penny nodded, knowing that anything she might say would carry clearly over the water.

The stranger had not moved since the skiff had pulled away. Like a grim statue, he stood in the shadow of a towering oak, gazing straight before him.

“Who does he think he is anyhow?” Louise demanded, becoming bolder as they put greater distance between themselves and the island. “Does he own this swamp?”

“He seems to think he does—or at least this section of it. Don’t feel too badly about Bones, Lou. We’ll come back tomorrow and find him.”

“Tomorrow may be too late. He’ll be hopelessly lost, or maybe that man will shoot him! Oh, Penny, Bones was such a cute little dog. He always brought me the morning paper, and he knew so many clever tricks.”

“It was all my fault for insisting upon landing there. Lou, I feel awful.”