Chapter II: Part 2

"I suppose the police questioned you about the bridge dynamiting," she remarked, pocketing the address.

"Sure, they gave me the works," he acknowledged, shrugging. "Kept me at the station half the night. Then this morning they had me identify one of the suspects."

"_Not_ Burt Ottman?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't identify him as the saboteur?" Penny inquired in dismay.

"I told the police he looked like the fellow. And he did."

"But how could you see his face?" Penny protested. "The motorboat traveled so fast! Even when the man crawled out of the water and ran, one could only tell that he was tall and thin."

"He looked like young Ottman to me," the watchman insisted stubbornly. "Well, guess I'll shove on. You talk to your father and let me know about that job. I can use 'er."

Without giving the girls a chance to ask another question, Mr. Oaks moved off down the street.

"Now if things aren't in a nice mess," Penny remarked as she and Louise retraced their way to the bus stop. "No wonder the police held Burt Ottman! I don't see how Mr. Oaks could have thought he resembled the saboteur."

"I'm sure I didn't get a good look at the fellow," Louise returned. "Mr. Oaks must have wonderful eyes, to say the least."

After a ten minute wait, a bus came along, and the girls rode to their separate homes. Penny ate luncheon, helped Mrs. Weems with the dishes and then slipped away to her father's newspaper office.

An early afternoon edition of the _Star_ had just rolled from the press. Entering the editorial room, Penny noted that it appeared to have been swept by a whirlwind. Discarded copy lay on the floor, and there were more wads of paper around the scrap baskets than in them.

Jerry Livingston's battered typewriter served as a comfortable foot rest for his unpolished shoes. Seeing Penny, he removed them to the floor, and grinned at her.

"Hello, Miss Pop-Eye!" he said affectionately. "How's our little sailor?"

"Never mind," returned Penny. "What's this I hear about Burt Ottman being arrested by the police?"

"That's how it is." The grin faded from the reporter's face. "Tough on DeWitt too."

"DeWitt?" Penny inquired. She could not guess what connection the editor might have with the dynamiting case.

Jerry glanced about the news room to make certain that DeWitt was not within hearing. In a low tone he confided:

"Didn't you know? Burt Ottman is DeWitt's first cousin. It rather puts him in a spot, being kin to a saboteur."

"Nothing has been proved against Ottman yet."

"All the same, it looks bad for the kid. When the story came in it gave DeWitt a nasty jolt."

"I should think so," nodded Penny. "Why, I never dreamed that he was related to the Ottmans."

"Neither did anyone else in the office. But you have to hand it to DeWitt. He took it squarely between the eyes. Didn't even play the story down nor ask your father to soft pedal it."

"Mr. DeWitt is a real newspaper man."

"Bet your life!" Jerry agreed with emphasis. "He's gone young Ottman's bail to the tune of ten thousand dollars."

"Why, that must represent a good portion of his life time savings."

"Sure, but DeWitt says the kid has been framed, and he's going to stand by him."

"I think myself that Burt Ottman was too far away to be properly identified. I mean to tell the police so, too."

"Well, we all hope for DeWitt's sake that it is a mistake," Jerry said soberly. "But the evidence is stacking up fast. The motorboat came from Ottman's. Carl Oaks said he recognized the saboteur as young Ottman. Then this morning police found a handkerchief with an initial 'O' lying along the shore not far from where the fellow crawled out of the water."

"Circumstantial evidence."

"Maybe so," Jerry agreed with a shrug, "but unless young Ottman gets a good lawyer, he's likely to find himself doing a long stretch."

Deeply troubled by the information, Penny went on toward her father's private office. As she passed the main copy desk where Editor DeWitt worked, she noticed that his face was white and tense. Although he usually had a smile for her, he barely glanced up and did not speak.

Penny tapped twice and entered her father's office. Mr. Parker had just finished dictating a letter to his secretary who quietly gathered up her notebook and departed. The newspaper owner pretended to glance at the calendar on his desk.

"Unless I'm all muddled, this is Saturday, not Thursday," he greeted his daughter teasingly. "Aren't you a bit mixed up?"

"Maybe so," Penny admitted, seating herself on a corner of the desk.

"You seldom honor me with a call except to collect your Thursday allowance."

"Oh, I'm not concerned with money these days," Penny said, trying to balance a paper weight on her father's head. "It's this dynamiting case that has me all tied in a knot."

"Stop it, Penny!" Irritably, Mr. Parker squirmed in his chair. "This is an office, not a child's play room!"

"Try to give me your undivided attention, Dad. I want you to do me a favor."

"How about granting me one first? Please stop playing with the gadgets on my desk!"

"Why, of course," grinned Penny, backing away. "Now about this job for Carl Oaks--"

"Job?"

"Yes, he was relieved of duty at the Thompson bridge, you know. It was partly my fault. So I want you to square matters by finding other work for him."

"Penny, I am _not_ an employment agency! Anyway, what do I know about the man?"

"I owe him a job, Dad. He says he likes to work around the waterfront. Can't you get him something to do? Oh, yes, it has to be an easy job because he can't walk and he can't lift anything."

"How about a nice pension?" Mr. Parker demanded. He sighed and added, "Well, I'll see what I can do for him. Now run along, because I have work to get out."

Feeling certain that her father would find a suitable position for the old watchman, Penny went directly from the newspaper office to Louise Sidell's home. After relating all the latest news, she asked her chum if she would not enjoy another excursion to the river.

"But we were just there a few hours ago!" Louise protested. "I've had enough sailing for one day."

"Oh, I don't care to sail either," Penny corrected hastily. "I thought it might be interesting to call on Old Noah."

"That queer old man who has the ark?"

"What do you say?"

"Oh, all right," Louise agreed, rather intrigued by the prospect. "But if we get into trouble, just remember it was your idea."

By bus the girls rode to a point near the river. Without approaching Ottman's Dock, they crossed the Big Bear over Thompson's bridge which had just been opened to pedestrian traffic only. Making their way along the eastern shore, they came at last to the mouth of Bug Run.

"It looks like rain to me," Louise declared, scanning the fast-moving clouds. "Just our luck to be caught in a downpour."

"Maybe we can take refuge in the ark," Penny laughed, leading the way up the meandering stream. "That is, if we can find it."

Trees and bushes grew thick and green along either bank of the run. Several times the girls were forced to muddy their shoes in order to proceed. In one shady glade, a bullfrog blinked at them before making a hasty dive into the lilypads.

There was no sign of a boat or any structure remotely resembling an ark. And then, rounding a bend, they suddenly saw it silhouetted against a darkening sky.

"Why, it looks just as if it had rolled out of The Old Testament!" Louise cried in astonishment.

The ark, painted red and blue, rose three stories from the muddy water. A large, circular window had been built in the uppermost part, and there were tiny, square openings beneath. From within could be heard a strange medley of animal sounds--the cackling of hens, the squeal of a pig, the squawking of a saucy parrot who kept calling: "Noah! Oh, Noah!"

Louise gripped Penny's hand. "Let's not go any nearer," she said uneasily. "It's starting to rain, and we ought to make a double dash for home."

A few drops of rain splashed into the stream. Dropping on the tin roof of the ark like tiny pellets of metal, they made a loud drumming sound. The disturbed hens began to cluck on their roosts. The parrot screeched loudly, "Oh, Noah! Come Noah!"

"Where is Noah?" Penny asked with a nervous giggle. "I certainly must see him before we leave."

As if in answer to her question, they heard a strange series of sounds from deep within the woods. A cow mooed, and a man spoke soothing words. Soon there emerged from among the trees a bewildering assortment of animals and fowl--a cow, a goat, a pig, and two fat turkeys. An old man with a long white beard which fell to his chest, drove the creatures toward the gangplank of the ark.

"Get along, Bessie," he urged the cow, tapping her with his crooked stick. "The Lord maketh the rain to fall for forty days and forty nights, but you shall be saved. Into the ark!"

Penny fairly hugged herself with delight.

"Oh, Louise, we can't go now," she whispered. "That must be Old Noah. And isn't he a darling?"

CHAPTER
7
_ARK OF THE MUD FLATS_

Unaware that he was being observed, Old Noah again rapped the cow smartly on her flanks.

"Get along, Bessie," he urged impatiently. "The Heavens will open any minute now, and all the creatures of the earth shall perish. But this calamity shall not befall you, Bessie. You are one of God's chosen."

None too willing to be saved from impending doom, Bessie bellowed a loud protest as she was driven into the over-crowded ark. Next went the goat and the squealing pig. The turkeys made more trouble, gobbling excitedly as the old man shooed them into the confines of the three-storied boat.

His task accomplished, Old Noah wiped his perspiring brow with a big red handkerchief. He stood for a moment, gazing anxiously up at the boiling storm clouds.

"This is it--the second great flood," he murmured. "For the Lord sayeth, 'I will cause it to rain forty days and forty nights and every living substance that I have made will I destroy from off the face of the earth.'"

As he stood thus, gazing at the sky, Noah made a striking figure. In his prime, the old man evidently had been a stalwart physical specimen, and advancing years had not enfeebled him. His face was that of a Prophet of old. A certain child-like simplicity shone from a pair of trusting blue eyes whose direct gaze bespoke implicit belief.

"Let's speak to him," Penny urged. Although Louise tried to hold back, she pulled her along toward the ark.

Old Noah heard the girls coming and turned quickly around. After the first moment of startled surprise, he leaned on his crooked stick and inquired with a kind smile:

"Why have you come, my daughters?"

"Well, we were curious to see this fine ark," Penny replied. "We picked up one of your floating blue bottles with a message in it."

"Blessed are they that heed the warnings of the Lord," murmured Old Noah. "I, his servant, have prepared a place of refuge for all who come."

By this time rain was falling steadily, and Louise huddled against a tree trunk for protection. "Penny, for Pete's Sake--" she protested.

"Follow me, my daughters," bade Old Noah, motioning for them to cross the gangplank into the ark. "Inside you will find food and shelter."

"We could use a little shelter," said Penny, glancing questioningly at her chum. "How about it, Lou? Shall we go inside and meet the animals?"

Louise hesitated, for in truth she was a bit afraid of the queer old man.

"Come, my daughters," Noah bade again. "Have no fear. The Lord sayeth, 'Noah, with thee will I establish my covenant, and thou shalt enter into the ark.'"

"We'll drown if we stay outside," laughed Penny, following boldly after the old man. "Come on, Louise."

Unmindful of the falling rain, Noah stooped to pick up a bedraggled kitten from underfoot.

"It's a very nice boat," Penny remarked, dodging under the shelter of the roof. Louise huddled close beside her.

"A sturdy ark," agreed Old Noah proudly. "Many, many months did I labor building it. The Lord said, 'make thee an ark of gopher wood.' But of gopher wood there was none to be had. Then the Lord came to me in a dream and said, 'Noah, use anything you can find.' So I gathered timbers from the beaches, and I wrecked an abandoned cottage I found in the woods. I felled trees. And I pitched the seams within and without as the Lord bade me."

"What animals do you keep inside?" Penny inquired curiously.

"Well, mostly creatures that aren't too exacting in their needs," said Noah, perching the wet kitten on his shoulder. "The Lord sayeth two of every kind, male and female. But it wasn't practical. Some of the animals were too big to keep aboard the ark."

A disturbance from within the boat interrupted the old man's explanation. "Excuse me, daughters, I've got to fasten Bessie in her stall," he apologized. "If I keep her waitin' she's apt to kick the ark to pieces!"

Old Noah disappeared into the lower story of the boat. Peering in the open door, the girls saw row upon row of stalls and cages. There was a sty for the pigs, a pen for the goat, a little kennel for the dog, low roosts for the fowls. The walls of the room had been whitewashed and the floor was clean.

"What a life Old Noah must lead!" Louise whispered to Penny. "Why, it must be worse than being a zoo keeper!"

In a moment the old fellow reappeared. Beckoning to the girls, he led them up a little flight of stairs to the second floor of the ark.

"This is my bird room," he said, opening a door.

"Hello, Noah!" croaked a brilliantly colored parrot, fluttering on her perch. "You old rascal! Polly wants a slug o' rum!"

Noah glanced quickly at the girls. "I am humble and ashamed," he apologized. "But the bird means no evil. I bought her of a sailor, who, I fear had wandered from the ways of righteousness."

Placing a drink of water near the parrot, the old man directed attention to a cage containing a pair of doves.

"When the flood waters recede, I shall send these birds forth from a window of the ark," he explained. "If they return with a branch of a bush or any green thing, then I shall know that the Lord no longer is angry."

"How long do you imagine it will rain?" Louise asked absently, staring out the little round window.

"Forty days and forty nights," answered Old Noah. Taking a bag of seed, he began to feed the chirping birds. "While your stay here may be somewhat confining, you will find my ark sturdy and snug."

"Our stay here," Louise echoed hollowly.

Penny gave her a little pinch and said to Old Noah, "We appreciate your hospitality and will be happy to remain until the rain slackens. But where are your living quarters?"

"On the third floor. First, before I conduct you there, I will throw out a few bottles. Although the fatal hour is near at hand, a number of persons may yet read my message and seek refuge in time to be saved."

While the girls watched with deep interest, Old Noah moved to the porthole. Opening it, he tossed into the muddy waters a half dozen corked bottles which he selected from a basket beneath the window.

"Now," he bade, turning again to Penny and Louise, "follow me and I will show you my humble quarters."

By this time the girls scarcely knew what to expect, but the third floor of the ark proved rather a pleasant surprise. Old Noah had fitted it out with compartments, a tiny kitchen, living quarters, and a bedroom. The main room had a rug on the floor, there were several homemade chairs and a radio. Evidently, the master of the ark was musically inclined, for a shelf contained an accordion, a banjo and a mouth organ.

"Just sit down and make yourselves comfortable, daughters," Old Noah invited, waving them toward chairs. "I'll stir up a bite to eat."

Entering the tiny kitchen, he poked about among the shelves. Watching rather anxiously, the girls next saw him open one of the portholes to test his fishing lines. Finding one taut, he pulled in a large catfish which he immediately began to dress.

"He intends to cook that for us," Louise whispered. "I'll not even taste it! Oh, let's get away from here!"

Penny wandered to the window. The sky had grown much lighter, and trees which had been blotted out by the heavy rain, now were visible.

"The storm is almost over," she said encouragingly. "Let's step outside and see how things look."

Noah, occupied with his culinary affairs, did not glance up as the girls quietly slipped away. Descending the steps to the main deck, they huddled close against a wall to keep dry. Rain still fell, but even as they watched it slackened.

"Let's say goodbye to Noah and streak for home," Louise suggested, eager to be off.

Before Penny could reply, both girls were startled to see a stranger emerge from among the bushes along the shore. He wore a raincoat, a broad-brimmed hat which dripped water, and a bright badge gleamed on his chest.

"I'm Sheriff Anderson," he announced, coming close to the ark. "Is Dan Grebe aboard?"

"Do you mean Old Noah?" Penny asked doubtfully.

"Most folks call him that. An old man who's lost his buttons, but harmless. He's been maintaining a public nuisance here with his ark."

As the sheriff started to come aboard, Old Noah himself stepped out on deck.

"So here you be again!" he shouted angrily, grasping the narrow railing of the gangplank. "Didn't I warn you not to trespass on the property of the Lord?"

"Noah, we've been patient with you," the sheriff replied wearily. "The last time I was here, you promised to clean up this dump and move your ark down stream. Now you're going with me to talk to the judge."

"Stand back! Stand back!" Old Noah shouted as the officer started across the gangplank. "Beware, or I'll call the wrath of the Lord down on your head!"

The sheriff laughed and came on. With surprising strength and agility, Old Noah jerked the gangplank loose from the ark and hurled it into the water. Sheriff Anderson made a desperate lunge for an overhanging tree branch. Failing to seize it, he fell with a loud splash into the muddy river.

CHAPTER
8
_THE GREEN PARROT_

Old Noah slapped his thigh and cackled with glee as he watched Sheriff Anderson splash about in the muddy water.

"That'll teach you!" he shouted jubilantly. "You meddlin' son of evil! Next time maybe you will know enough to mind your own business and leave my ark alone!"

Penny and Louise stood ready to toss the sheriff a rope, but he did not need it. Clinging to the floating gangplank, the man awkwardly propelled himself to shore. As he tried to climb up the steep bank, his boots slipped and he fell flat on his face in the mud. Old Noah went off into another fit of laughter which fairly shook the ark at its mooring.

"Laugh, you old coot!" the sheriff muttered, picking himself up. "I've been mighty patient with you, but there's a limit. Tomorrow I'm coming back here with a detail of deputies. I'll run you and your ark out o' here if it's the last thing I do!"

"Be off with you!" ordered Noah arrogantly. "Before _my_ patience is gone!"

"Okay, Noah, you win this round," the sheriff muttered furiously. "I'm going, but I'll be back. And if this ark isn't cleaned up or out o' here, we'll put you away!"

A sorry figure with his clothing wet and muddy, the official stomped angrily off into the woods.

"I'm afraid you antagonized the wrong man that time, Noah," Penny remarked as the footsteps died away. "What will you do when he returns?"

"That time will never come," Old Noah replied, undisturbed. "Before the Lord will allow the ark to be taken from me, he will smite my enemies with lightning from the Heavens."

Penny and Louise had their own opinion of what would happen to the ark and its animals, but wisely said nothing to further disturb the old fellow. By this time the rain had entirely ceased and a ray of sunshine straggled through the ragged clouds.

"Well, guess this isn't to be the Great Flood after all," Penny remarked, studying the sky. "We're most grateful for the shelter of your ark, Noah. Now if we can just reach shore, we'll be on our way."

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" the old man asked in disappointment. "I'm fryin' up a nice catfish."

"I'm afraid we can't remain today," Penny answered. "Another time perhaps." Using a long, hooked pole, Old Noah retrieved the drifting gangplank and refastened it to the ark.

"Farewell, my daughters," he said regretfully as he bade them goodbye. "You and your friends always will be welcome to take refuge in my ark. The Great Flood is coming soon, but you are among the chosen."

Feeling decidedly exhilarated by their meeting with such a strange character, Louise and Penny followed the twisting stream to the main river channel. Water was rising rapidly along the banks and at many places, bushes and tree branches dipped low in the swirling eddies.

"You know, if these spring rains keep up, Noah may get his big flood after all," Penny remarked. "Poor old fellow! He certainly sealed the fate of his ark when he pushed Sheriff Anderson into Bug Run."

Turning homeward toward the Thompson Bridge, the girls soon approached the river bank where police had searched for the escaped saboteur. Curious to see the locality by daylight, they detoured slightly in order to pass it.

"This is the place," Penny said, indicating ground which had been trampled by many feet. "At the rate the river rises, the shore here will be under by tomorrow."

"I suppose police learned everything they could last night."

"Yes, they went over the area rather thoroughly," Penny nodded. "I know they took photographs and made measurements of the saboteur's footprints. Lucky they did, because the water has washed them all away."

"You still can see where the automobile was parked," Louise declared, pointing to tire tracks in the soft earth. "Were any real clues found, Penny?"

"Jerry told me police picked up a handkerchief bearing the initial 'O.'"

"That could stand for Ottman!"

"Likewise Oscar or Oliver or Oxenstiern," Penny added, frowning. "I'll admit though, it doesn't look too bright for Sara's brother."

Having satisfied their curiosity regarding the locality, the girls started on toward the bridge. Before they had gone a dozen feet, Penny's eye was caught by an object lying half-buried in the mud. She picked it up gingerly and dangling it in front of Louise was amazed to discover that it was a man's leather billfold.

"Anything inside?" inquired Louise with interest.

Penny opened the flap and explored the various divisions of the money container. To her disappointment it held nothing save one small card upon which had been scribbled a few words.

"'The Green Parrot--'" she read aloud. "'Tuesday at 9:15.' Now what does that mean?"

Beneath the notation appeared another: "The American Protective Society."

"I guess it doesn't mean much of anything," commented Louise, digging at the mud which had collected on her shoes. "Probably an appointment card."

"You don't suppose this billfold was dropped by the saboteur?" Penny asked thoughtfully. "It's very near the place where he crawled out of the river."

"Wouldn't the police have picked it up if they had considered it of any importance?"

"I doubt they ever saw it, Lou. The billfold was half buried in mud. I'd never have seen it myself if I hadn't almost stepped on it."

"Why not turn it over to the police?"

"Guess I will," Penny decided, replacing the card in the billfold and wrapping them both in her handkerchief. "Did you ever hear of the American Protective Society, Lou?"

"Never did. Nor 'The Green Parrot' either--whatever that is."

"I think The Green Parrot is a cafe or a night club with none too good a reputation," Penny said thoughtfully. "I'm sure I've heard Dad say it's a gambling place."

Without further adventure, the girls resumed their trek and soon reached a bus line. Upon arriving home, Penny's first act was to consult the telephone directory. She could find neither The Green Parrot nor the American Protective Society listed.

"Mrs. Weems, did you ever hear of a place called The Green Parrot?" she questioned the housekeeper.

"Isn't that a restaurant the police closed down a few months ago?" replied Mrs. Weems. "Now why should you be bothering your head about The Green Parrot?"

Penny showed her the billfold and explained where she had found it.

"Dear me," sighed the housekeeper. "How you can get into so many affairs of this kind is a wonder to me. I'm sure it worries your father too."

"Not Dad," laughed Penny. "Since I dug up that big story for him about the old _Wishing Well_, he's been reconciled to my career of news gathering."

"Wishing wells and saboteurs are two entirely different matters," the housekeeper returned firmly. "I do hope you turn this billfold over to police and forget about suspicious characters."

"I'm only worried about one," rejoined Penny. "It bothers me because I involved Burt Ottman in such a mess. I'm not so sure he's guilty."

"And again, the police probably know exactly what they are about," replied Mrs. Weems. "Now please take that billfold to the authorities and let them do the worrying."

Thus urged, Penny carried the money container to the local police station. Unable to talk to any of the detectives connected with the dynamiting case, she left the billfold with a desk sergeant. As she turned to leave, after answering his many questions, she posed one of her own.

"Oh, by the way, did you ever hear of a place called The Green Parrot?"

"Sure," the sergeant responded. "It's a night club. Used to be located on Granger Street, but our boys made it too hot for 'em, so they moved to another place."

"Where is it now?"

"Couldn't tell you," answered the sergeant. "You'll have to talk to one of the detectives, Jim Adams or Bill Benson."

Having no real excuse for seeking the information, Penny decided to abandon the quest. For want of an occupation, she sauntered on toward the _Star_ office. Pausing in front of the big plate glass window, she idly watched a workman who was oiling one of the great rotary presses.

"Oh, here you are!" exclaimed a voice from behind her.

Whirling around, Penny saw that her father had just come through the revolving doors at the main entrance to the building.

"Hello, Dad," she greeted him eagerly. "What's new in the dynamiting case?"

"Nothing so far as I know," he replied, rather indifferently. "Burt Ottman's been released on bail."

"Mr. DeWitt put up the money?"

"Yes, he did," Mr. Parker said, frowning. "I advised him against it, but DeWitt feels a duty to the boy. Were you looking for me, Penny?"

"Well, not in particular."

"I'm on my way to a bank meeting," Mr. Parker said, turning away. "Oh, yes, I arranged a job for that watchman complication of yours, Carl Oaks."

"You did? Oh, grand! What sort of work is it?"

"Can't take time to tell you now," Mr. Parker said hurriedly, hailing a passing taxi cab. "If you want all the details, ask Jerry Livingston. He took care of the matter for me, and can give you the information."

CHAPTER
9
_A JOB FOR MR. OAKS_

Eager to learn what had been done to help Carl Oaks, Penny took an elevator to the news room of the _Star_. Jerry Livingston's desk was deserted, so she paused at the slot of the big circular copy desk to ask Editor DeWitt if the reporter were anywhere in the building.

"I just sent him to cover a fire," Mr. DeWitt replied, glancing up from copy he was correcting. "He ought to be back any minute. You know how Jerry covers a fire."

"I certainly do. He rides the big engine to the scene, just whiffs at the smoke, and races back with a column report!"

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.

Burt busied himself cleaning the clod of dirt from the rowboat. "Don't mind Sara," he said. "She's always inclined to be high strung."

"I'm sorry about everything," said Penny quietly. "Mr. DeWitt believes you will be cleared."

Burt straightened, staring at the far shore. "Wish I felt the same way. Unless the real saboteur is caught, the police intend to tag me with the job."

"They can't convict you without evidence. Oh, by the way, did you ever lose a leather billfold?"

The question surprised Burt. He hesitated before he answered: "What made you ask me that?"

"I found an old one along the river. No money or any identification in it. Just a card which said: 'The Green Parrot. Tuesday at 9:15.'"

"The Green Parrot!"

"You've heard of the place?"

"Oh, I've heard of it," Burt answered carelessly. "That's all. I never was there. Sorry I can't claim the billfold."

As if uneasy lest he be questioned further, the young man picked up a coil of rope and walked away. Penny waited a moment and then left the dock.

"I'm just a nuisance around there," she thought unhappily. "I'd like to help, but Sara and Burt won't let me."

The following two days passed without event so far as Penny was concerned. There were no developments regarding the bridge dynamiting case and the story was relegated to an inside page of the Star. However, recalling her promise to Carl Oaks, she did speak to her father about finding him a new job.

"What does that fellow expect?" Mr. Parker rumbled irritably. "Jerry tells me he's a ne'er-do-well. Why doesn't he like his job as watchman on the coal barge?"

"Well, it's too dirty."

"Carl Oaks is lucky to get any job in this town," Mr. Parker answered. "Jerry had a hard time inducing anyone to take him on. Along the waterfront he has a reputation for shiftlessness."

"In that case, just forget it, Dad. I don't like the man too well myself."

Penny promptly forgot about Carl Oaks, but many times she caught herself wondering what had happened to Old Noah and his ark. Since she and Louise had visited the place, it had rained every day. The water was slowly rising in the river and there was talk that a serious flood might result.

On Tuesday night, as Penny and Louise paid their weekly visit to the Rialto Theatre, it was still raining. The gutters were deep with water and to cross the street it was necessary to walk stiffly on their heels.

"We've had enough H_{2}O for one week," Penny declared, gazing at her splashed stockings. "Well, for screaming out loud!"

A green taxicab, turning in the street to pick up a fare, shot a fountain of muddy water from its spinning wheels. Penny, who stood close to the curb, was sprayed from head to foot.

"Just look at me!" she wailed. "That driver ought to be sent to prison for life!"

The taxi drew up in front of the Rialto Theatre. A well-dressed man in brown overcoat and felt hat who waited at the curb, opened the cab door.

"To the Green Parrot," he ordered the driver.

"Where's that, sir?"

The passenger mumbled an address the girls could not understand. He then slammed shut the cab door and the vehicle drove away.

"Lou, did you hear what I heard?" Penny cried excitedly.

"I certainly did!"

Penny glanced quickly about. Seeing another taxicab across the street, she hailed it.

"Come on, Louise," she urged, tugging at her chum's hand.

Louise held back. "What do you intend to do?"

"Why, we're going to follow that taxi!" Penny splashed through the flooded gutter toward the waiting cab. "This is a real break for us! With luck we'll learn the location of The Green Parrot!"

CHAPTER
11
_PURSUIT BY TAXI_

"Keep that green taxi in sight!" Penny instructed her own cab driver as she and Louise leaped into the rear seat.

"Sure," agreed the taxi man, showing no surprise at the request.

Thrilled, and feeling rather theatrical, Penny and Louise sat on the edge of their seats. Anxiously they watched the green cab ahead. Weaving in and out of downtown traffic, it cruised at a slow speed and so, was not hard to follow.

Louise gazed at the running tape of the taxi meter. "Do you see that ticker?" she whispered. "I hope you're well fortified with spare change."

"I haven't much money with me. Let's trust that The Green Parrot is somewhere close."

"More than likely it's miles out in the country," Louise returned pessimistically.

The green cab presently turned down a narrow, little-traveled street not many blocks from the river front. As it halted at the curb, Penny's driver glanced at her for instructions.

"Don't stop," she directed. "Drive on past and pull up around the corner."

The taxi man did as requested, presenting a bill for one dollar and eighty cents. To pay the sum, Penny used all of her own money and borrowed a quarter from her chum.

"That leaves me with just thirty-eight cents," Louise said ruefully. "No picture show tonight. And how are we to get home?"

"We're not far from a bus line. Come on, we're wasting valuable time."

"Those two words, 'Come on' have involved me in more trouble than all the rest of the English language," Louise giggled nervously. "What are we to do now we're here?"

Penny did not answer. Rounding the corner, she saw that the green cab and its passenger had disappeared. For an instant she was bitterly disappointed. Then she noticed a creaking sign which swung above a basement entrance. Although inconspicuous, it bore the picture of a green parrot.

"That's the place, Lou!" she exclaimed.

"Well, we've learned the address, so let's go home."

"Wonder what it's like inside?"

"Don't you dare start that old curiosity of yours to percolating!" Louise chided severely. "We're _not_ going in there!"

"Who ever thought of such a thing?" grinned Penny. "Now I wonder what time it is?"

"About eight-thirty or perhaps a little later. Why?"

"Do you remember that card we found in the leather billfold? The notation read, 'The Green Parrot, Tuesday at 9:15.'"

"So it did, but the appointment may have been for nine fifteen in the morning."

"You dope!" laughed Penny. "Louise, we're in wonderful luck finding this place at just this hour! Why, the man we followed here may be the one who lost the billfold."

"All of which makes him a saboteur, I suppose?"

"Not necessarily, but don't you think we ought to try to learn more?"

"I knew you'd try to get me into that place," Louise complained. "Well, I have more sense than to do it. It might not be safe."

"I shouldn't think of venturing in unescorted," Penny assured her. "Why not telephone my father and ask him to come here right away?"

"Well, that might not be such a bad idea," Louise acknowledged reluctantly. "But where can we find a phone?"

Passing The Green Parrot, the girls walked on a few doors until they came to a corner drugstore. Going inside, they closed themselves into a telephone booth. Borrowing a nickel from Louise, Penny called her home, but there was no response.

"Mrs. Weems went to a meeting tonight, and I suppose Dad must be away," she commented anxiously.

"Then let's give it up."

"I'll try the newspaper office," Penny decided. "If Dad isn't there, I'll talk to one of the reporters."

Mr. Parker was not to be contacted at the _Star_ plant, nor was Editor DeWitt available. Penny asked to speak to Jerry Livingston and presently heard his voice at the other end of the wire. Without wasting words she told him where she was and what she wanted him to do.

"_The Green Parrot!_" Jerry exclaimed, copying down the address she gave him. "Say, that's worthwhile information. I'll be with you girls as soon as I can get there."

"We'll be outside the corner drugstore," Penny told him. "You'll know us by the way we pace back and forth!"

Within twelve minutes a cab pulled up and Jerry leaped out to greet the two girls.

"Where is this Parrot place?" he demanded, gazing curiously at the dingy buildings.

Louise and Penny led him down the street to the basement entrance. Music could be heard from within, but blinds covered all the windows.

"It must be a cafe," commented Jerry. He turned toward Penny and stared. "Say, what's the matter with your face?"

"My face?"

"You look as if you're coming down with the black measles!"

"Oh, a taxi splashed me with mud," Penny laughed, sponging at her cheeks with a handkerchief. "How do I look now?"

"Better. Let's go."

Taking the girls each by an elbow, Jerry guided them down the stone steps. Confronted with a curving door, he boldly thrust it open.

"Now act as if you belonged here," he warned the girls.

The trio found themselves in a carpeted, luxuriously furnished foyer. From a large dining room nearby came laughter and music.

As the outside door closed behind the young people, a bell tinkled to announce their arrival. Almost at once a head waiter appeared in the archway to the left. He was tall and dark, with a noticeable scar across one cheek. His shrewd eyes scrutinized them, but he bowed politely enough.

"A party of three, sir?"

"Right," agreed Jerry.

They followed the waiter into a dimly lighted dining room with more tables than customers. A four-piece orchestra provided rather dreary music for dancing. Jerry reluctantly allowed a checkroom girl to capture his hat.

The head waiter turned the party over to another waiter.

"Table thirteen," he instructed, and spoke rapidly in French.

"Table thirteen," complained Jerry. "Can't you give us something besides that?"

"Monsieur is superstitious?" The head waiter smiled in a superior way.

"Not superstitious, just cautious."

"As you wish, Monsieur. Table two."

Jerry and the girls were guided to the far end of the room, somewhat apart from the other diners. A large potted palm obstructed their view.

"I think they've hung the Indian sign on us," Jerry muttered after the waiter had gone. "See anyone you know, Penny?"

"That man over by the door--the one sitting alone," she indicated in a whisper. "Louise and I followed him here."

"The one that's wrestling with the lobster?"

"Yes, don't stare at him, Jerry. He's watching us."

The waiter arrived with glasses of water and menu cards. Jerry and the girls scanned the list in secret consternation. Scarcely an item was priced at less than a dollar, and even a modest meal would cost a large sum.

"I'm not very hungry," Louise said helpfully. "I'll take a ham sandwich."

"So will I," added Penny.

"Three hams with plenty of mustard," ordered Jerry breezily.

The waiter gave him a long glance. "And your drink, sir?"

"Water," said Jerry. "Cool, refreshing water, preferably with a small piece of ice."

The waiter favored the trio with another unflattering look and went to the kitchen.

"This is a gyp place," Penny declared indignantly. "I can't understand why anyone would come here. The waiters all seem to be French."

"Oh, all head waiters speak French," Jerry replied. "You can't tell by that. I'd say they were German myself."

Penny studied the cafe employees with new interest. She noted that the head waiter kept an alert eye upon the entire room, but particularly he watched their table.