Chapter III: Part 3

"She's been too busy and bothered to pay any attention to him," the cook declared. "But she always has time to boss me. I tell you, if dishes aren't prepared perfectly she raves!"

"No wonder Mr. Kippenberg was forced to leave home," Penny interposed slyly. "You can't blame him for running away from a violent temper."

"Oh, the Kippenbergs never had any trouble," Mrs. Latch corrected. "Mr. Kippenberg would just laugh and not say a word when she jumped on him. They were never heard to quarrel."

"Then it seems odd that he went away."

"Yes, it does," agreed the cook, frowning. "I never did understand it. And then the way Mrs. Kippenberg changed all the servants!"

"You mean after Mr. Kippenberg went away?"

"She fired everyone except me. I guess she knew she couldn't get another cook half as good if she let me go. Right away I struck for more money and she gave it to me without a whimper. But since then she works me like a dog."

Mrs. Latch clattered the lid of the garbage can into place and turned toward the house. But as Penny once more fell into step with her, she paused and regarded the girl with sudden suspicion.

"Say, why am I telling you all this anyway? Who are you? You're not one of those sneaking reporters?"

"Do I look like a reporter?" countered Penny.

"Well, no, you don't," admitted Mrs. Latch. "But you're as inquisitive as one. You must be the girl who brought Miss Sylvia's new dress from the LaRue Shoppe."

Penny hesitated too long over her reply, and the woman gazed at her sharply.

"You _are_ a reporter!" she exclaimed with conviction. "And you've been deliberately pumping me! Of all the tricks! I'll tell Miss Kippenberg!"

"Wait, I can explain."

Mrs. Latch paid no heed. With an angry toss of her head she hastened into the house.

"Overstepped myself again," Penny thought in dismay. "I'll be getting away from here while the getting is good."

Turning, she ran down the walk toward the river, only to stop short as she reached the boat dock. The drawbridge was in open position and the old watchman did not appear to be at his usual post. She had no way of reaching the mainland.

CHAPTER
12
_FISHERMAN'S LUCK_

Penny looked anxiously about for a means of crossing the river. There were no small boats available and the only person who stood on the opposite shore was Jerry Livingston. The other reporters and photographers, evidently tiring of their long vigil, had gone away.

She cupped her hands and shouted to Jerry: "How am I going to get over there? Can you lower the bridge?"

"The mechanism is locked," called back the reporter. "And the watchman won't be back for an hour."

Penny walked a short distance up the shore searching for a boat. The only available craft was the large launch which she could not hope to operate. She might return to the house and appeal to Miss Kippenberg but such a course was not to her liking.

As she considered whether or not to ruin her clothing by swimming across, Jerry called her attention to a small boat some distance up the river. The boy who was fishing from it obligingly rowed ashore after Penny had signaled him.

"I'll give you fifty cents to ferry me across," she offered.

"I'll be glad to do it," he agreed.

Penny stepped into the boat and then asked: "Aren't you the same lad I saw here yesterday?"

The boy nodded as he reached for the oars. "I remember you," he answered.

"You seem to fish here nearly every day."

"Just about. I caught some nice ones today." Proudly he held up two large fish for her to see.

"Beauties," praised Penny. "I take it the motor boats haven't been bothering you as much as they were."

"It's been pretty quiet on the river today," the boy agreed. "Want to see something else I fished up?"

"Why, yes. What did you hook, a mud turtle?"

The boy opened a large wooden box which contained an assortment of rope, fishing tackle and miscellaneous articles. He lifted out a man's high silk hat, bedraggled and shapeless.

"You fished that out of the water?" Penny demanded, leaning forward to take the article from him. "Where did you find it?"

"Up there a ways." The boy motioned vaguely toward a point on the Kippenberg estate.

Penny turned the hat over in her hand, examining it closely. She found no identifying marks, yet she believed that it had belonged to Grant Atherwald for he had worn similar headdress. The point indicated by the boy was not far distant from the Kippenberg lily pool.

"How would you like to sell this hat?" she asked.

"Why, it's not worth anything."

"I'd like to have it," said Penny. "I'll give you another fifty cents."

"It's a deal."

Penny offered the boy a dollar bill, and a moment later he beached the boat. Jerry was waiting to help her ashore. His alert gaze fastened upon the hat which she hugged close, but he withheld comment. To the boy he said:

"Son, how would you like to earn five dollars?"

The boy's eyes brightened. "Say, this is my lucky day!" he exclaimed. "What doin'?"

"It's easy," Jerry told him. "All you need to do is to be here for a couple of days with your boat. You're not to allow anyone to use it except me."

"And me," added Penny. "I'll need taxi service myself if I come back here."

"That's all right," agreed the boy.

"Here's a dollar on deposit," Jerry said. "Now remember, be here tomorrow from eight o'clock on, and don't hire out to any other person."

"I won't," the boy promised.

Jerry took Penny's elbow and escorted her to the press car.

"So you found Atherwald's hat?" he asked without preliminaries.

"It resembles the one he wore. The boy fished it out of the river."

"Then that looks as if the fellow really was the victim of a plot!"

"I've thought so all along," Penny declared soberly.

"What else did you learn? You seemed to be very chummy with Miss Kippenberg."

"I'll not be from now on," Penny returned ruefully.

As Jerry backed the car around in the dusty road, she told of her meeting with Sylvia Kippenberg and the ensuing conversation.

"So Miss Kippenberg doesn't like questions?" Jerry asked. "And she refuses to notify the police? Well, after we publish our story in the _Star_ it won't be necessary. The police will come to do their own investigating."

"I can't really believe she is trying to deceive the authorities," Penny said thoughtfully. "She seems to have a sincere regard for Grant Atherwald."

"It may be pretense."

"She wasn't pretending the day of the wedding. Atherwald's disappearance was a great shock to her."

"Well, even so, she may know a lot more than she's putting out."

"I think that myself. She closed up like a clam when I talked about her father."

The car came to the main road and a short time later entered the town of Corbin. As they stopped for a red light, Penny touched Jerry's arm.

"Look over there," she directed. "See those two men standing in front of the drugstore?"

"What about them?"

"They're G men who attended the Kippenberg wedding. Salt pointed them out to me."

"You don't say! Maybe we can learn a fact or two from them."

Jerry parked the car at the curb and sprang out. Penny saw him walk over to the men, introduce himself and show his press credentials. She was too far away to hear the conversation.

In a few minutes Jerry returned to the car looking none too elated.

"You didn't learn anything, did you?" Penny inquired as they drove on again.

"Not very much. Government men never will talk. But they did admit they were here trying to locate James Kippenberg."

"Then they think he is in the locality."

"They had an idea he would show up at his daughter's wedding. But it didn't turn out that way."

"Did you say anything to them about Grant Atherwald's disappearance?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't discuss it. They said they had nothing to do with the case."

Penny lapsed into reflective silence as the car went on toward Andover. Mentally she sorted over the evidence which she had gathered that day, trying to fit it into a definite pattern.

"Jerry," she said at last.

"Yes?"

"You'll probably laugh at this, but I have a theory about Grant Atherwald's disappearance."

"Go ahead, spill it."

"Yesterday when Salt and I were waiting at the drawbridge we saw a motorboat cruise down the river. It was driven by a burly looking fellow who paid no heed when we tried to hail him."

"You're not suggesting that the man may have had something to do with Atherwald's disappearance?" Jerry questioned, mildly amused.

"I knew you would laugh."

"Your theory sounds pretty far-fetched to me, I'll admit. It happens there are any number of burly, tough looking boatmen on the Kobalt. You can't arrest a man for a crime just because of his appearance."

"All the same, there is supporting evidence. Mrs. Latch told me that Atherwald's note had been handed to her by a boy who in turn received it from someone in a boat."

"Boats are rather common too. Your theory is interesting, but that's all I can say for it."

"All right," said Penny. "I was about to tell you another idea of mine. Now I won't do it."

No amount of coaxing could induce her to reveal her thought, and the remainder of the drive to Andover was made in silence. It was well after five-thirty when the car finally drew up in front of the City Club.

Penny was not surprised to find the doors locked and no sign of Louise or Miss Frome.

"I thought they would go home without me," she said to Jerry. "I only wanted to make certain."

For many miles the road led through pleasant countryside and then swung back toward the Kobalt river. The sun had dropped below the horizon by the time the automobile sped through the town of Claxton.

"Thirty miles still to go," Jerry sighed. "I'm getting hungry."

"Two souls with but a single thought," remarked Penny.

Directly ahead they noticed an electric sign which drew attention to a roadside gasoline station with an adjoining restaurant. Jerry eased on the brake.

"How about it, Penny? Shall we invest a few nickels?"

"I could do with a sandwich," Penny agreed. "Several, in fact."

Not until Jerry had parked the car did they notice the dilapidated condition of the building. It stood perhaps fifty yards back from the main road, its rear porch fronting on the Kobalt.

"Strange how one is always running into the river," Penny remarked absently. "It seems to twist itself over half the state."

Jerry had not heard her words. He was gazing at the restaurant with disapproval.

"This place doesn't look so good, Penny. If you say the word we'll drive on."

"Oh, I'd brave anything for a beef barbecue," she laughed.

Through the screen door they caught a discouraging glimpse of the cafe's interior--dingy walls, cigarette smoke, a group of rough looking men seated on stools at the counter. Upon the threshold Penny hesitated, losing courage.

"Let's not go in," Jerry grunted in an undertone. "They'll probably serve cockroaches in the sandwiches."

Penny half turned away from the door only to stop short. Her attention focused upon two men who were sitting at the far end of the cafe drinking coffee from heavy mugs. In the indistinct light she could not be absolutely sure, yet she was instantly convinced that the heavy-set fellow in shirt sleeves was the same boatman who had been seen near the Kippenberg estate.

To Jerry's surprise, Penny resisted the tug of his arm as he sought to lead her toward the car.

"This place isn't half bad," she said. "Let's try it and see what happens."

Boldly she reached for the knob of the screen door and entered the cafe.

CHAPTER
13
_TWO MEN AND A BOAT_

Penny ignored several empty tables at the front of the dreary restaurant and selected one not far from where the two men sat. As they glanced at her with insolent, appraising eyes, her pulse quickened. She was almost certain that the heavy-set man was the same fellow she had noticed near the Kippenberg estate.

A waiter in a soiled white apron shuffled up to take their order.

"Hot roast beef sandwich and coffee," said Jerry. "With plenty of cream."

"Make mine the same," added Penny without looking at the menu.

All her attention centered upon the two men who were now talking together in low tones. After the first glance they had taken no interest in her and were unaware of her scrutiny. The heavy-set man bent nearer his companion and with the point of his knife drew a pattern on the tablecloth.

"What do you think of this route, Joe?" he asked.

"Too risky," the other muttered. "Once we start we got to make a quick shoot to the sea."

"Any way we take we might run into trouble. Y'know, I wish we had never agreed to do the job."

"You and me both!"

"Dietz ain't to be trusted," the heavy-set man said and his shaggy eyebrows drew together in a scowl. "He's thinking first and last of his own skin. We've got to watch him."

"And the girl, too. She's a dumb one and plenty apt to talk if the going gets rough."

Penny lost the remainder of the conversation as Jerry spoke to her.

"We couldn't have picked a worse place," he complained. "Look at all the breakfast egg on the tablecloth. I'm in favor of walking out even now."

"I'm not," replied Penny.

"Say, what's got into you anyway?" Jerry demanded. "You're acting mighty funny."

"Notice those two men at the last table," she indicated.

"What about them?"

"See that heavy-set fellow with the tattooed anchor on his arm? Well, I'm satisfied he is the same boatman who cruised near the Kippenberg estate yesterday afternoon."

"It might be," Jerry agreed, unimpressed. "The Kobalt is only a stone's throw away. And this place seems to be frequented by rivermen."

"You didn't hear what they were saying?" whispered Penny. "Listen!"

Jerry immediately fell silent, centering his attention upon the two men. But by this time they had lowered their voices so that only an occasional word could be distinguished.

"What were they saying anyway?" Jerry asked curiously.

Before Penny could answer, the proprietor came from the kitchen bearing two plates of food which he set down before them. The sandwiches were covered with a dark brown, watery gravy, potatoes bore a heavy coating of grease and the coffee looked weak.

"Anything more?" the man inquired indifferently.

"That's all," Jerry replied, with emphasis. "In fact, it's too much."

At the adjoining table the two men abruptly hauled to their feet. Paying their bill they quitted the restaurant.

"Let's leave, too," suggested Penny. "I should like to see where they go."

Jerry pushed his plate aside. "Suits me," he agreed. "Even my cast-iron stomach can't wrestle with such food as this."

He paid at the cash register and they went out into the night. Penny looked about for the two men and saw them walking toward the river.

"Hold on," said Jerry as she started to follow. "Tell me what all the excitement is about."

Tersely, Penny repeated the conversation she had overheard.

"They're tough looking hombres all right," Jerry admitted. "Likely as not mixed up in some dirty business. But to say they're involved in the Kippenberg affair--"

"Oh, Jerry," Penny broke in impatiently, "we'll never learn anything if we take that attitude. We must run down every possible clue. Please, let's see if they go down to the river."

"We ought to be getting our story back to the office," Jerry reminded her. "If we miss the last edition there will be fireworks."

"It will only take a minute," Penny insisted stubbornly. "If you won't come with me, then I'm going alone!"

She started away and the reporter had no choice but to follow. A narrow, well-trod path led down a steep slope toward the river. Long before they came within sight of it they could hear the croak of bullfrogs and feel the damp, night mists enveloping them like a cloak.

Drawing closer to the two men, Penny and Jerry slackened pace and moved with greater care. But if they hoped to learn anything from the conversation of the pair ahead they were disappointed. The talk concerned only the weather.

Reaching the banks of the river, the two men boarded a sturdy cabin cruiser which had been moored to a sagging dock.

"It's the very same boat," Penny whispered jubilantly. "I knew I wasn't mistaken."

"Even so, what does that prove?" demanded Jerry. "It's no crime to run a motorboat near the Kippenberg estate. The river is free."

"But you must admit there _is_ other evidence. Oh, why can't we follow them? We might learn something really important."

"We're not going off on any wild chase tonight," stated Jerry sternly. "Come on, it's home for us before your father sends a police squad to search for his missing daughter."

"You're losing a golden opportunity, Jerry Livingston."

"Listen, by the time we located a boat those men would be ten miles from here. They're leaving now. Use your head."

"Oh, all right," Penny gave in. "We'll go home, but I'll bet a cent you'll be sorry later on."

She waited until the cruiser was lost to view in the darkness and then allowed the reporter to guide her back up the steep path.

"At least let's try to find out who the men are," Penny urged as they came near the cafe. "The restaurant owner might know."

More to please her than for any other reason, Jerry said that he would inquire. He re-entered the cafe, returning in a few minutes to report that the proprietor had never seen either of the men before.

"And now let's be traveling," he urged. "We've killed enough time here."

During the remainder of the ride back to Riverview, Penny had little to say. But long after she knew Jerry had forgotten the two boatmen she kept turning their conversation over in her mind. She only wished she might prove that her theories were not ridiculous.

Presently, the automobile drew up in front of the Parker residence.

"Won't you come in, Jerry?" Penny invited. "Dad may wish to talk with you about the case."

"I might stop a minute. I have a question or two to ask him."

The door of the house swung open as Penny and the reporter crossed the front porch. Anthony Parker stood framed in the bright electric light, a tall, imposing figure.

"That you, Penny?"

"Yes, Dad."

"I'm glad you're home safe," he said, not trying to hide his relief. "Mrs. Weems and I have both been worried. It's going on nine o'clock."

"So late? Didn't Louise telephone you?"

"Yes, she said you had gone on to the Kippenberg estate. Knowing you, I worried all the more. What mischief did you get into this time, Penny?"

"None. Jerry took care of that!"

Mr. Parker held the door open for his daughter and Jerry to pass through. "Have you had your dinners?" he asked.

"We stopped at a roadside cafe, Dad. But the food was horrible. We didn't even try to eat it."

"Mrs. Weems can find something for you, I'm sure. She's upstairs."

"Don't call her just yet," said Penny. "First, we want to tell you what we've learned."

Mr. Parker listened attentively as Penny gave a detailed account of her visit to the estate, the finding of the silk hat, and finally of her encounter with the two boatmen at the river cafe.

"I might have learned a lot more if only Jerry hadn't played grandmother," she said crossly. "He refused to follow the boat down the river--said it would only be a wild chase."

"Jerry, I'm glad you had will power enough to overrule her," declared Mr. Parker. "The possibility of those men being connected with the Atherwald case seems very vague to me."

"Dad, you should have heard what they were saying! The one man drew a design on the tablecloth and asked his companion what he thought of the route. They talked about a quick get-away to the sea."

"The men may have been fugitives," Mr. Parker commented. "But even that isn't very likely."

"They spoke of being uneasy about a certain job they had agreed to do," Penny went on earnestly. "They mentioned a girl and said that a fellow named Dietz would bear watching."

Mr. Parker leaned forward in his chair. "Dietz?" he questioned. "Are you certain that was the name?"

"Yes, I heard it clearly."

"I don't see how there could be any connection," Mr. Parker mused. "And yet--"

"Where did you hear the name before, Dad?" Penny asked, all eagerness.

"Well, DeWitt has been digging up all the facts he can about James Kippenberg. As it happens, the man once had a business associate named Aaron Dietz who was dismissed because of alleged dishonesty."

"Then there must be a relationship!" Penny cried. She whirled triumphantly to face the crestfallen reporter. "You see, Mr. Jerry Livingston, my theory wasn't so crazy after all! Now aren't you sorry?"

CHAPTER
14
_THE STONE TOWER_

Louise Sidell was washing the breakfast dishes when Penny walked boldly in at the back door.

"Don't you ever answer doorbells, Lou?" she demanded. "I stood around front for half an hour, ringing and ringing."

"Why, hello, Penny. I didn't hear you at all," apologized Louise. "The radio is on too loud. I see you reached home last night."

Penny picked up a towel and began to dry dishes. "Oh, yes, and did I have a day!"

"What happened after you left Andover?"

"It's a long story, so I'll begin at the end. Last night, coming home with Jerry we stopped at a cafe along the river. Guess whom we saw!"

"Knowing your luck, I'd say Charlie Chaplin, or maybe the Queen of England."

"This particular cafe wasn't quite their speed, Lou. Jerry and I saw that same boatman I told you about!"

"The fellow you saw cruising about the Kippenberg estate? What's so remarkable about that?"

"It just happens I've dug up other evidence to show he may know something about Grant Atherwald's disappearance," Penny revealed proudly. "Jerry and I overheard a conversation. It seems this man and a companion of his are mixed up with another fellow named Aaron Dietz."

"Which doesn't make sense to me," complained Louise, scrubbing hard at a sticky plate.

"Aaron Dietz was a former associate of James Kippenberg. Dad said he probably knew more about the Kippenberg financial affairs than any other person. Oh, I tell you, Jerry feels pretty sick because we didn't follow the men last night! Dad assigned him to try to pick up the trail today. He's chartered a motor boat and will patrol the river."

"If you don't mind," said Louise patiently, "I'd like to hear the first part of the story now. Then I might know what this is all about."

Talking as fast as she could, Penny related everything which had happened since she had taken leave of her chum at Andover.

"Which brings me to the point of my visit," she ended her tale. "How about going out there with me this morning?"

"To the Kippenberg estate?" Louise asked eagerly.

"Yes, we may not be able to get across the river, but I mean to try."

"You know I'm wild to visit the place, Penny!"

"How soon can you start?"

"Just as soon as these stupid dishes are done. And I ought to change my dress."

"Wear something dark which won't attract attention in the bushes," advised Penny. "Now get to working on yourself while I finish the dishes."

Louise dropped the dishcloth and hurried upstairs. When she returned ten minutes later, her chum was swishing the last of the soapsuds down the sink drain. Another five minutes and they were in Penny's battered car, speeding toward Corbin.

The sun rode high in the sky by the time they came within view of the drawbridge. Noticing that a press car from a rival newspaper was parked at the end of the road, Penny drew up some distance away. She could see two reporters talking with the old watchman.

"Evidently, they're having no luck in getting over to the estate," she remarked.

"Then what about us?"

"Oh, we have our own private taxi service," Penny chuckled. "At least I hope so."

Taking a circuitous route so they would not be noticed by the bridgeman, the girls went down to the river's edge. Far up the stream Penny saw the familiar rowboat drifting with the current. At her signal the small boy seized his oars and rowed toward shore.

"I was here at eight o'clock just as you said," he declared. "That fellow up there by the bridge offered me a dollar to take him across the river. I turned him down."

"Good," approved Penny.

"Do you want to go across the river now?" the boy asked.

"Yes, please." Penny stepped into the boat and made room for Louise. "Keep close to the bank until we are around the bend. Then I'll show you where to land."

"I guess you're afraid someone will see you," the boy commented.

"Not exactly afraid," corrected Penny. "But this way will be best."

The boat moved quietly along the high bank, well out of sight of those who stood by the drawbridge.

"The cops were here this morning," volunteered the boy as he pulled at the oars.

"You saw them visit the estate?" Penny questioned.

"Sure, there were four of 'em. They drove up in a police car and they made old Thorndyke let the bridge down so they could go across."

"Are the policemen at the estate now?"

"No, they left again in about an hour. What do you suppose they wanted over there?"

"Well, now, I couldn't guess," replied Penny. "Like as not they only wished to ask a few questions. Are the Kippenbergs at home?"

"I saw Mrs. Kippenberg drive away right after the police left."

"And her daughter?"

"I guess she must be still there. Anyway, she wasn't in the car."

The boat rounded the bend, and Penny pointed out a place on the opposite shore where she wished to land.

"Shall I wait for you?" the boy asked as the girls stepped from the craft.

"Yes, but not here," directed Penny. "You might row back to the opposite shore and keep watch from there. We ought to be ready to leave within at least an hour."

The roof top of the Kippenberg house could be seen towering above the tall trees. But as the two girls plunged into the bushes which grew thickly along the shore they lost sight of it entirely.

"I hope," said Louise uneasily, "that you know where you are going. It would be easy to lose one's self in this jungle."

"Oh, I have my directions straight. We should come out near the lily pool at any minute."

"What do you hope to gain by coming here, Penny?" Louise inquired abruptly.

"I thought I would try to talk with Miss Kippenberg again. There's an important question I forgot to ask her yesterday. Then I wanted to show you the estate, especially the lily pond."

"Is there anything unusual about it?"

"I'll let you be the judge," Penny answered. "We're almost there now."

They came in a moment to a path which made walking much easier. Penny went in advance of her chum. Suddenly she halted.

"See what is ahead, Lou! I never saw that thing before."

She stepped to one side so that Louise might see the tall stone tower which loomed up against a background of scarlet maples.

"How curious!" murmured Louise.

"This isn't the only queer thing I've found on the estate."

"What purpose could the tower have?" speculated Louise.

"Decoration, perhaps," replied Penny, moving forward again. "Or it might have been built for a prison."

"Listen, you have too many different theories about Grant Atherwald," laughed Louise. "Why don't you get one and stick to it?"

"My mind is always open to new possibilities and impressions."

"I'll say it is," agreed Louise. "I suppose you think Mrs. Kippenberg is keeping young Atherwald a prisoner in yonder tower?"

"Well, no, but you must admit it would make a lovely one. So romantic."

"Are you trying to kid me?" Louise demanded.

Penny smiled broadly as she stared up at the tower which rose perhaps twelve feet. Like every other building on the estate it had been built to resist the ages. High above her head a circular window had been cut in the wall and there was a heavy oaken door.

Reaching for the knob, Penny turned it. Then she pressed her shoulder against the door and pushed with her entire strength.

"Locked!" she announced.

"Then we won't learn what is inside after all."

"Yes, we will," declared Penny. "You lift me up and I'll peep in the window."

"You only weigh a ton," complained Louise.

She obligingly raised Penny up as high as she could.

"Look fast," she panted. "What do you see?"

"Not much of anything."

"I can't hold you forever," Louise said, and released her hold. "Didn't you see anything at all?"

"Just a lot of machinery."

"Tools, you mean?"

"No, an electric motor and something which looked like it might be a pump. Oh, I get it now!"

"Get what?" demanded Louise.

"Why, the idea of this tower. It must be used as a pump house. I wondered how the lily pool was ever drained and this must be the answer."

"You didn't see any prisoners chained inside?" Louise teased.

"Not one. Well, let's be getting on to the lily pond. It must be somewhere close."

Louise could not understand why her chum was so determined that she should see the pool. But since Penny seldom did anything without a purpose, she speculated upon what might be in store. She knew from the girl's manner that certain facts had been withheld deliberately to make this visit the more impressive.

"Here we are," said Penny as they came to the clearing. "What do you think of it?"

Louise was aware of a deep sense of disappointment as she gazed at the lily pool.

"I really don't see anything so remarkable about it, Penny."

"This was the place where I found the wedding ring. And there were footprints indicating that a struggle probably took place."

"I read all that in the paper," Louise said. "From the hints you've been passing out, I thought you brought me here to show me something mysterious."

"Go close to the pool."

"What for, Penny? You want to push me in?"

"Oh, you're too suspicious! Go on and look."

Louise went to the edge of the pool and peered down into the water.

"I don't see anything."

"You will in just a minute. Keep looking."

Louise was more than half convinced that Penny meant to play some prank, but she dropped down on her knees so her eyes would be closer to the water.

"Why, I do see some large object on the floor of the tank!" she exclaimed after a moment. "What is it, Penny?"

"An alligator."

Louise gave a smothered scream and drew back from the pool's edge.

"I--I might have fallen in. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"I only wanted you to get a nice thrill," Penny grinned. "Pretty fellow, isn't he?"

"I didn't really see him," Louise admitted.

Overcoming her fear, she again leaned over the edge of the pool but with great caution. This time she could make out the alligator's form distinctly.

"Horrible!" she shuddered. "I wish you hadn't brought me--"

Her words ended in a little wail as a tiny object splashed into the water directly beneath her.

"My cameo pin!" she cried. "Oh, Penny, it slipped from my dress and now it's gone!"

CHAPTER
15
_A CAMEO PIN_

In dismay, the two girls watched the trinket settle slowly to the bottom of the pool.

"Oh, my beautiful pin," moaned Louise. "Aunt Lucinda gave it to me for my birthday. I wouldn't have lost it for anything in the world."

"I guess it was my fault," Penny said self-accusingly.

"No, it wasn't. I must have been careless about fastening the clasp. When I leaned over it slipped off. Well, it's gone, and that's that."

The cameo pin had fallen into the deepest part of the pool not far from where the alligator lay. The girls were unable to see it plainly because of the lily pads and plants which cluttered the water.

"If that old alligator would just behave himself we could wade in and get it easy," Penny said.

"Fancy trying it!"

"I'm afraid he would take special delight in snapping off an arm or a leg. And we don't dare ask anyone to help us get the pin or we'll be ejected from the grounds as trespassers."

"We may as well forget about it, Penny. Come along, I'm sick of this place."

"No, wait, Louise. We might be able to fish it out with a stick."

"I don't think we'd have a chance."

"Anyway, it will do no harm to try."

Penny searched the woods until she found a long stick with a curve at the end. Lying flat on the flagstones at the edge of the pool she prodded for the pin.

"I can touch it all right!" she cried. "I'll pull it over to the side."

"Be careful you don't tumble in," Louise warned, anxiously holding her chum by the waist. "If you should lose your balance--"

Penny hooked the cameo pin in the curve of the stick and began raising it inch by inch up the side of the pool.

"If I can get it up high enough reach down and snatch it," Penny advised her chum. "Oh, shoot, there it goes!"

The pin had slipped away from the stick and settled once more on the bottom of the pool.

"You can't get it, Penny," Louise insisted. "You're making the alligator all excited by prodding around."

"I don't care about _him_. I'll try once more if I can locate the pin. It seems to be hiding from me now."

The water was so disturbed that Penny could not see the pin or the bottom of the pool. She waited several minutes for the dirt to settle and then gazed down once more.

"There it is!" she exclaimed. "It moved over quite a ways to the right."

Louise flattened herself beside Penny. "Oh, let the pin go," she said.

"No, I think I can get it. Say, there seems to be something else on the bottom of the pool."

"Where?"

Penny pointed, and then, as her chum still could not distinguish anything, parted the lily pads with her stick.

"Yes, I do see something now," Louise declared. "What can it be?"

"Doesn't it look like a metal ring?" Penny asked. She had lost all interest in the cameo pin.

"Yes, it does. Someone probably threw it into the pool."

"But it looks to me as if it's attached to the bottom of the tank, embedded in the cement," Penny said. She bent closer to the water, trying to see.

"Be careful," Louise warned nervously. "That alligator might come up and snap off your nose."

Penny paid no heed.

"It is attached!" she announced in an excited voice. "Louise, do you know what I think?"

"What?"

"It's the ring of a trapdoor!"

"A trapdoor!" Louise echoed incredulously.

"You can see for yourself that it's an iron ring."

"It does look a little like one from here," Louise admitted. "But whoever heard of a trapdoor in a lily pool? No one but you would even think of such a thing. It doesn't make sense."

"Does anything on this estate make sense?"

"The ring might have something to do with draining the pool," Louise said without replying to her chum's question. "I suppose a section of the pool could be lifted up and removed. But I'd never call it a trapdoor."

"I wish we could tell for sure what it is." Penny tried to prod the ring with her stick but it was well beyond her reach. "Maybe the alligator has a room down under the pool where he spends his winters!"

"You're simply filled with ideas today," Louise declared. "What about my pin? Shall we let it go?"

Reminded of her original task, Penny set to work once more, trying to draw the cameo to the edge of the tank. She was so deeply engrossed, that she jumped as her chum touched her on the arm.

"Listen, Penny, I think someone is coming!"

From the path at the right they could hear approaching footsteps and the low murmur of voices.

Penny struggled to her feet, dropping the stick.

"We mustn't be caught here," she whispered.

Taking Louise's hand, she drew the girl into the dense bushes directly behind the pool. Scarcely had they secreted themselves when Sylvia Kippenberg and the head gardener came into view. They seated themselves on a rustic bench not far from where the two girls stood.

"I had to talk with you," Sylvia said to the old man. "The police came this morning and asked so many questions. Mother put them off but they'll be back again."

"They didn't learn about the alligator?" the gardener asked gruffly.

"No, they came here but only stayed a few minutes. I don't think they noticed anything wrong."

"Then that's all right."

"Their investigation is only beginning," Sylvia said nervously. "Mother and I both believe it would be wise to get rid of the alligator."

"Wise but not easy," the gardener replied.

"You'll see what you can do about it?"

"Yes. I'll try to get rid of him."

"Then I guess that's all," Sylvia said, but she made no move to leave. She sat staring moodily at the pool.

"Anything else on your mind?" asked the gardener.

"I--I wanted to ask you something, but I scarcely know how."

The gardener waited, watching the girl's face intently.

"You never liked Grant Atherwald," she began nervously.

"Say, what are you driving at?" the man asked quickly. "You're not trying to hint that I had anything to do with Grant Atherwald's disappearance?"

The two faced each other and Sylvia's gaze was the first to fall.

"No, no, of course not," she said.

"I don't know any more about his disappearance than you do," the man told her angrily. "I didn't even see him on the day of the wedding."

"But he came here. The wedding ring was found near the pool. Surely you must have heard some sound for I know you were in this part of the garden."

"Well, I didn't," the man said sullenly. "The only persons I saw were a newspaper photographer and a girl."

"Please don't take offense," Miss Kippenberg murmured, getting up from the bench. "I've been terribly upset these past few days."

She walked slowly to the edge of the pool. There she stopped short, staring down at an object which lay on the flagstones at her feet. It was the stick which Penny had dropped only a moment before.

"What have you found?" the gardener cried.

He went quickly to her side and took the damp stick from her hand.

"Someone has been here prying around," he said in a harsh voice. "This was used to investigate the water in the pool."

"And whoever it was must be close by even now. Otherwise the stick would have dried out in the sun."

"You go back to the house," the man commanded. "I'll look around."

In their hideout amid the bushes, Penny and Louise gazed at each other with chagrin. No word was spoken for even a whisper might have been heard. With a common desire for escape, they glided with cat-like tread toward the river.

CHAPTER
16
_GATHERING CLUES_

The girls could hear no movement behind them as they darted down the path. They dared to hope that they had eluded the old gardener.

Then as they came within sight of the river, Louise stumbled over a vine. Although she stifled an outcry the dull thud of her body against the ground seemed actually to reverberate through the forest. A black crow on the lower limb of an oak tree cawed in protest before he flew away.

Penny pulled Louise to her feet and they went on as fast as they could, but they knew the sound had betrayed them. Now they could hear the man in pursuit, his heavy shoes pounding on the hard, dry path.

"Run!" Penny commanded.

They reached the river bank and looked about for the boat which would take them across. As they had feared it was on the opposite shore.

Penny gestured frantically, but the boy did not understand the need for haste. He picked up his oars and rowed toward them at a very deliberate pace.

"Oh, he'll never get here in time," Louise murmured fearfully. "Shall we hide?"

"That's all we can do."

They realized then that they had waited too long. Before they could dodge into the deeper thicket the gardener reached the clearing.

"So it's you again!" he cried wrathfully, glaring at Penny.

"Please, we didn't mean any harm. We can explain--"

"This stick is explanation enough for me!" the man shouted, waving it above his head. "You were trying to find out about the lily pool!"

"We were only trying to get a pin which I dropped into the water," Louise said, backing a step away.

"I don't believe you!" the man snapped. "You can't fool me! I know why you came here, and you'll pay for your folly! You'll never take the secret away with you!"

With a swift, animal-like spring which belied his age, the gardener hurled himself toward the girls. He seized Penny's arm giving it a cruel twist.

"You're coming along with me," he announced harshly.

"Let me go!" Penny cried, trying to free herself.

"You're going with me to the house. You've been altogether too prying. Now you'll take your punishment, both of you."

The gardener might have managed Penny alone, but he was no match for two athletic girls. As he tried to seize Louise, Penny twisted free.

Quick as a flash, she grasped the man's felt hat, jamming it down on his head over his eyes. While he was trying to pull it off, Louise also wriggled from his grasp.

The two girls ran to the water's edge. Their boat had drawn close to shore. Without waiting for it to beach they waded out over their shoetops and climbed aboard.

"Don't either of you ever come here again!" the gardener hurled after them. "If you do--"

The rest of the threat was carried away by the wind. However, Penny could not resist waving her hand and calling back: "Bye, bye, old timer! We'll be seeing you!"

"What's the matter with that man anyhow?" asked the boy who rowed the boat. "Didn't he want you on the estate?"

"On the contrary, he invited us to remain and we declined," grinned Penny. "Just temperament, that's all. He can't make up his mind which way he would like to have it."

Allowing the boy to puzzle over the remark, she busied herself pouring water from her sodden shoes. The visit to the estate had not turned out at all as she had planned. She had failed to talk with Miss Kippenberg, and it was almost certain that from now on servants would keep a much closer watch for intruders.

The only vital information she had gleaned resulted from overhearing the conversation between Sylvia Kippenberg and the gardener.

"She talked with him as if they were well acquainted," mused Penny. "Miss Kippenberg must have thought he knew more about Grant Atherwald's disappearance than he would tell. And she seems to be afraid the Law will ask too many questions. Otherwise, she wouldn't have suggested getting rid of the alligator."

One additional observation Penny had made, but she decided not to speak of it until she and Louise were alone.

The boat reached shore and the two girls stepped out on the muddy bank.

"Will you need me again?" inquired the boy.

"I may," said Penny, "and I can't tell you exactly when. Where do you keep your boat?"

"Up the river just beyond that crooked maple tree. I hide it in the bushes and I keep the oars inside a hollow log close by. You won't have any trouble finding it."

Penny and Louise said goodbye to the lad and scrambled up the bank.

"I'm sure I'll not be going back to _that_ place," the latter declared emphatically. "I just wonder what would have happened if we hadn't broken away."

"We might have been locked up in the stone tower," Penny laughed. "Then another one of my theories would have proven itself."

"Oh, you and your theories! You can't make me believe that gardener didn't mean to harm us. He was a very sinister character."

"Sinister is a strong word, Lou. But I'll agree he's not any ordinary gardener. Either he's been hired by the Kippenberg family for a very special purpose or else he's gained their confidence and means to bend them to his own ends."

"His own ends! Why, Penny, what do you mean? Have you learned something you haven't told me?"

"Only this. I'm satisfied Old Peter is no gardener. He's wearing a disguise."

"Well, what won't you think of next! You've been reading too many detective stories, Penny Parker."

"Have I? Then there's no need to tell you--"

"Yes, there is," Louise cut in. "Your ideas are pretty imaginative, but I like to hear them anyway."

"Considerate of you, old thing," Penny drawled in her best imitation of an English accent. "You don't deserve to be told after that crack, but I'll do it anyhow. When I pulled the gardener's hat down over his eyes, I felt something slip!"

"Maybe it was his skin peeling off."

"He wore a wig," Penny said soberly. "That's why he looked so startled when I jerked the hat."

"Did you actually see a wig?"

"No, but he must have had one on his head. I felt it give, I tell you."

"I wouldn't put anything past that fellow. But if he isn't a gardener, then who or what is he?"

"I don't know, but I intend to do some intensive investigation."

"Just how, may I ask?"

Penny gazed speculatively toward the drawbridge, noting that the old watchman had been deserted by the group of reporters. He sat alone, legs crossed, his camp stool propped against the side of the gearhouse.

"Let's talk with him, Lou. He might be able to tell us something about the different employees of the estate."

They walked over to where the old man sat, greeting him with their most pleasant smiles.

"Good morning," said Penny.

The old man finished lighting his pipe before he deigned to notice them.

"Good morning," repeated Penny.

"Mornin'," said the watchman. He looked the two girls over appraisingly and added: "Ain't you children a long ways off from your Ma's?"

The remark both startled and offended Penny, but instantly she divined that the old fellow's memory was short and his eyesight poor. He had failed to recognize her in everyday clothes.

"Oh, we're just out for a hike," she answered. "You see, we get tired of all the ordinary places, so we thought we would walk by here."

"We're interested in your bridge," added Louise. "We just love bridges."

"This one ain't so good any more," the old man said disparagingly.

"Doesn't it get lonely here?" ventured Louise. "Sitting here all day long?"

"It did at first, Miss. But I got used to it. Anyway, it beats leanin' on a shovel for the gov'ment. I got a little garden over yonder a ways. You ought to see my tomatoes. Them Ponderosas is as big as a plate."

"Do you ever operate the bridge?" Louise inquired, for Penny had not told her that the structure was still in use.

"Oh, sure, Miss. That's what I'm here for. But it ain't safe for nothin' heavier than a passenger car."

"I'd love to see the bridge lowered." Louise stared curiously up at the tall cantilevers which pointed skyward. "When will you do it next time, Mr.--?"

"Davis, if you please, Miss. Thorny Davis they calls me. My real name's Thorndyke."

The old man pulled a large, silver watch from his pocket and consulted it.

"In about ten minutes now, Mrs. Kippenberg will be comin' back from town. Then we'll make the old hinge bend down agin'."

"Let's wait," said Louise.

Penny nodded and then as Thorny did not seem to object, she peeped into the gear house, the door of which stood half open. A maze of machinery met her eye--an electric motor and several long hand-levers.

Presently Thorny Davis listened intently. Penny thought he looked like an old fox who had picked up the distant baying of the pack.

"That's _her_ car a-comin' now," he said. "I can tell by the sound of the engine. Well, I reckon I might as well let 'er down."

Thorny arose and knocked the ashes from his corn-cob pipe. He opened the door of the gear house and stepped inside.

"May I see how you do it?" asked Penny. "I always was interested in machinery."

"The women will be runnin' locomotives next," Thorny complained whimsically. "All right, come on in."

The old watchman pulled a lever on the starting rheostat of the motor which responded with a sudden jar and then a low purr. It increased its speed as he pushed the lever all the way over.

"Now the power's on. The next thing is to drop 'er."

Thorny grasped one of the long hand-levers and gently eased it forward. There was a grind of gears engaging and the bridge slowly crept down out of the sky.

Penny did not miss a single move. She noted just which levers the watchman pulled and in what order. When the platform of the bridge was on an even keel she saw him cut off the motor and throw all the gear back into its original position.

"Think you could do 'er by yourself now?" Thorny asked.

"Yes, I believe I could," Penny answered gravely.

The old watchman smiled as he stepped to the deck of the bridge.

"It ain't so easy as it looks," he told her. "Well, here comes the Missuz now and we're all ready for her. Last time she came along I was weedin' out my corn patch and was she mad?"

As the black limousine rolled up to the drawbridge Penny turned her face away so that Mrs. Kippenberg would not recognize her. She need have had no uneasiness, for the lady gazed neither to the right nor the left. The car crept forward at a snail's pace causing the steel structure to shiver and shake as if from an attack of ague.

"Dear me, I think this bridge is positively dangerous," Louise declared. "I shouldn't like to drive over it myself."

As the old watchman again raised the cantilevers, Penny studied his every move.

"For a girl you're sure mighty interested in machinery," he remarked.

"Oh, I may grow up to be a bridgeman some day," Penny said lightly. "I notice you keep the gear house locked part of the time."

"I have to do it or folks would tamper with the machinery."

The old man snapped a padlock on the door.

"Now I'm goin' to mosey down to my garden and do a little hoein'," he announced. "You girls better run along."

Thus dismissed, Louise started away, but Penny made no move to leave. She intended to ask a few questions.

"Thorny, are you any relation to the Kippenberg's head gardener?" she inquired with startling abruptness.

"Am I any relation to that old walrus?" Thorny fairly shouted. "Am I any relation to _him_? Say, you tryin' to insult me?"

"Not at all, but I saw the man this morning, and I fancied I noticed a resemblance. Perhaps you don't know the one I mean."

"Sure, I know him all right." Thorny spat contemptuously. "New man. He acts as know-it-all and bossy as if he owned the whole place."

"Then you don't like him?"

"There ain't no one that has anything to do with him. He's so good he can't live like the rest of the servants. Where do you think I seen him the other night?"

"I haven't the slightest idea. Where?"

"He was at the Colonial Hotel, eatin' in the main dining room!"

"The Colonial is quite an expensive hotel at Corbin, isn't it?"

"Best there is. They soak you two bucks just to park your feet under one of their tables. Yep, if you ask me, Mrs. Kippenberg better ask that gardener of hers a few questions!"

Having delivered himself of this tirade, Thorny became calm again. He shifted his weight and said pointedly: "Well, I got to tend my garden. You girls better run along. Mrs. Kippenberg don't want nobody hangin' around the bridge."