_Riverview Star_ building. The tin flooring, only a few feet below the
level of the sill, easily could be reached by anyone climbing through the
window.
Tempted to take a short cut to the office, Penny impulsively stepped
through the opening. From the rooftop she could see the city spread out
below in rigid pattern, and to the eastward, the winding river.
Crossing the dusty floor to the skylight above the _Star_ photography
room, Penny peered curiously down. No one was visible below.
"I wonder if a person really could get through that skylight," she
speculated. "It would be quite a feat, but I believe it could be done."
A star athlete in high school, Penny felt a challenge. Giving no thought
to her clothes, she squeezed through the narrow opening and snagged her
sweater. As she freed herself, she noticed a tiny bit of blue cloth that
had impaled itself on the nail.
The cloth was not from Penny's garments, and looked as if it might have
been torn from a man's wool suit. Freeing it from the nail, she slipped
it into her pocket for later examination.
Now, with her feet dangling into space, she considered how she was to get
down into the room below. No longer was it possible to swing from the
opening to the top of a filing cabinet, for Salt had carefully moved the
heavy case to the far side of the room.
Seizing the skylight chain, Penny swung downward. The tiny brass rings
cut into her hands and half-way down, she was forced to let go, dropping
to the floor with a loud thump.
From the inner photography room came a terrified scream. Elda Hunt, her
face white with fear, appeared in the doorway.
"You!" she exclaimed, recovering from the shock of Penny's unexpected
entry.
"Now take it easy, Elda," Penny advised, brushing dirt from her sweater.
"I was only experimenting."
"Experimenting!"
"I wanted to see if it would be possible for a person to get into this
room through the skylight. It is possible!"
"You don't say!" Elda commented sarcastically. "I'll bet you were the one
who pulled that stunt in the first place!"
"How ridiculous!" Penny was irritated. Not wishing to discuss the matter,
she turned and walked out of the photography room.
In the corridor she met Salt Sommers who stopped her to ask when they
were to visit Professor Bettenridge in the country.
"Eight o'clock tonight, if you're willing to go," Penny said eagerly. "I
very much want to see the professor demonstrate his ray machine for Mr.
Johnson."
"And I want to find out what became of my camera," Salt added grimly. "Is
it a date?"
Penny nodded.
"Then suppose we start right after dinner. Can you meet me here at seven
o'clock?"
"Let's make it a little earlier," Penny suggested. "I have a hunch that
by getting there before the start of the demonstration we may learn
more."
"Okay," agreed Salt. "Make it six-thirty."
Having over-stayed her lunch hour, Penny quickly washed her grimy hands
and returned to her desk. As she sat down at the typewriter, she noticed
a sealed letter thrust behind the roller. Addressed to her, the writing
was in a bold scrawl she did not recognize.
Curiously, she scanned the message. It was written on cheap tablet paper
and had been signed with Ben Bartell's name.
"See me if you can," was all it said. "I have a little information about
the _Snark_."
Tucking the note into her pocketbook, Penny began to plan how she could
visit Ben that day. She would not be off until five o'clock, and she had
promised to meet Salt at six-thirty. If she were to get any dinner and
see Ben at the waterfront, it would mean fast stepping.
Only by an effort of will could Penny keep her mind on the work before
her. There were rewrites to do, and an interesting feature. At
four-thirty with two stories yet to be done, she became panicky that she
could not finish on time. But by really digging in, she completed the
stories exactly on the dot of five, and with a tired sigh of relief,
dropped them into Editor DeWitt's wire copy basket.
"You're just like a trained race horse, Penny," he said jokingly. "But
your work is okay. You're improving."
Penny brightened at the praise, for Editor DeWitt was not given to
complimentary words as a rule. Hurriedly washing carbon paper stains from
her hands, she caught a bus which took her within a block of Ben's shack.
Smoke curled from the chimney, and as she thumped on the sagging door,
she detected the odor of cooking bacon.
"Come in, come in!" Ben greeted her heartily. "You're just in time to
share my supper. You got my note?"
"Yes, I did, Ben. What's up?"
Without answering, the former reporter stepped aside for her to enter.
The room was much cleaner than when Penny last had visited it. Ben looked
better too. Although his clothes remained unpressed, his hair had been
cut, and there was a brightness to his eyes which she instantly noted.
"You've found work?" she surmised.
"Odd jobs," Ben answered briefly. "After talking to you I made up my mind
I'd better snap out of it. If I can't find newspaper work, I'll try
something else."
"I was thinking--" Penny sat down in a rickety chair, "--couldn't you do
free lance work? Write stories for newspapers out of town?"
"Without a typewriter? I put mine in hock months ago, and it finally was
sold for charges."
"I have a typewriter at home, Ben. I'll lend it to you."
Ben's face brightened, but he hesitated. "I've sure been lost without a
machine," he declared. "But I hate to take yours. You know what happened
to my watch. This shack isn't safe. Anyone might come in here and steal
it."
"It's only an old typewriter, Ben. I'm willing to take a chance. I'll see
that you get the machine within a day or so."
The former reporter stepped to the stove to turn the bacon. He kept his
face averted as he said: "Penny, you've been a real friend--the only one.
That day when you met me--well, I didn't give a darn. I was only one step
from walking off a dock."
"Don't say such things, Ben!" Penny warned. "You've had a run of hard
luck, but it's changing now. Suppose you tell me what you learned about
the _Snark_."
"Nothing too startling, so don't get your hopes up," Ben grinned.
He set out two cracked plates on the battered table, two cups for coffee,
and then dished up the bacon and a few fried potatoes. It was a meagre
supper, but not for the world would Penny have offended Ben by refusing
to share it.
"Now tell me about the _Snark_," she urged again, as Ben poured the
coffee.
"I've been watching the boat at night, Penny. Queer things go on there."
"We suspected that after seeing Webb pitched overboard."
"I've seen a lot of men come and go from that vessel," Ben resumed. "It's
a cinch they couldn't all be employed on her, because the _Snark_ has
been out of service for months."
"What do you make of it?"
"Oh, the _Snark_ is being used as a meeting place--that's obvious. Just
for the fun of it, I sneaked aboard last night."
"What did you learn, Ben?"
"The men were having a confab in one of the cabins. I couldn't hear much,
but enough to gather that they are afraid Webb will talk to the police."
"About what, Ben?"
"Didn't learn that part. I aim to keep tab on the place for a while."
Penny told of seeing Webb that afternoon and also of his association with
Professor Bettenridge.
"A secret ray machine, my eye!" Ben exploded. "You may be sure it's a
fake if Webb has anything to do with it! Penny, this is no business for
you to be mixed up in. Webb is a dock rat and as surly an egg as I ever
met. You ought to give him a wide berth."
"I'll certainly be careful," Penny promised, arising. "Sorry to leave you
with the dishes, Ben, but I must run or I'll be late for another
appointment."
She really hated to go, for she saw that her companionship had made the
young man more cheerful. Ben walked with her through the waterfront
district, and then reluctantly said goodbye.
Hastening along the shadowy street, Penny noticed the large electric sign
on top of the Gables Hotel.
Impulsively, she stopped at the hotel.
"That Navy official Professor Bettenridge spoke of may have arrived," she
thought. "Just to make certain, I'll inquire again."
CHAPTER
15
_THE DEMONSTRATION_
Penny was due to meet Salt Sommers in ten minutes, but if she were late,
she knew he would not leave without her.
Entering the crowded hotel, she waited her turn at the desk and then
inquired if any Navy officers had registered.
"Not to my knowledge," the clerk replied, consulting the register. "No,
we've not had a Navy man in for at least a week."
"Any Army officers?"
"The last was a sergeant who checked out two weeks ago. Most of our
guests rent on a monthly basis. We have only a few rooms for transient
guests."
"Can you tell me if a Professor Bettenridge has called here in the last
few days?"
"Not while I've been at the desk."
The information convinced Penny she had not misjudged the professor. She
now was satisfied he never had arranged with Navy officers to inspect his
ray machine. Instead, he had misinformed Mr. Johnson, no doubt hoping to
impress him that others were interested in the invention.
Quickly leaving the hotel, Penny hastened on to the news office. As she
passed near the loading platform, Salt hailed her from a car parked
there.
"Here I am," he called.
Penny slid into the front seat beside him, apologizing for being late.
"That's okay," returned Salt, shifting into gear. "But we haven't much
time unless we hurry. You know the way, don't you?"
"I do by daylight. And I think I can find the farmhouse, even if it
should get dark before we reach there."
Salt was a fast and very skillful driver. He chose the less frequented
streets and soon they were in the open. They made excellent time,
reaching their destination just as it began to grow dark.
"How shall we explain to the professor?" Penny inquired dubiously as the
photographer parked the car under an oak tree along the highway. "He may
think it strange that I returned."
"Let him," said Salt, unconcerned. "I'm here to get my camera."
"Don't go at him too hard," Penny pleaded. "After all, there is a chance
I was mistaken about the license number. In my excitement the night of
the explosion, I may have remembered a wrong figure."
"That's so," Salt acknowledged gloomily. "Well, we'll see."
"Why not pretend we're here to get a feature story for the _Star_?" Penny
suggested impulsively. "That way, I could ask him all the questions I
like about the secret ray machine."
"Any way you want to do it," Salt agreed amiably.
He locked the car and they walked to the farmhouse. Learning that the
professor and his wife were at the lake, they trudged down the lane.
"Wait!" Penny suddenly warned in a whisper.
Clutching Salt's arm, she drew him into the shadow of a tree. At first he
could not understand the need for caution. Then as Penny pointed, he saw
a hunched figure with a lighted lantern, walking along the lake shore
away from the cabin where Professor Bettenridge's ray machine was kept.
"There goes Webb now!" Penny whispered. "He's evidently going to the
shack where the mines are stored."
"What's he carrying?" Salt inquired.
Although too far away to see plainly, they thought that he had a small
satchel tucked under his arm. As he drew closer they discerned that it
was leather, and apparently used as a container for a long
cylinder-shaped object.
Passing a short distance away, the man did not see Salt or Penny. They
watched until they saw the red glow of his lantern vanish over a hillock.
"That's the foot-path to the shack where the mines are stored," Penny
commented. "I wonder what's inside the satchel?"
"Shall we try to find out?"
"Let's talk to Professor Bettenridge first," Penny proposed, going down
the lane.
The door of the cabin stood slightly ajar. Inside the lighted room were
the professor, his wife, Mr. Johnson, and several other persons Penny had
never seen before. However, she took them to be town residents who had
heard of the test and were eager to see it.
"Well, professor," they heard Mr. Johnson say jovially. "We're all here,
so why not go ahead? Show us what the machine will do."
"All in good time, all in good time," the professor rejoined. "You must
give my assistant an opportunity to drop the mine into the lake. He will
signal us by lantern when he is ready."
Penny tapped on the door. The professor whirled around, decidedly
startled. Then, observing Salt and Penny, he abruptly came over to speak
to them.
"Well?" he asked in a tone which was not friendly.
"We came to see the demonstration," Penny said brightly.
"Glad to have you," the professor replied, though without cordiality.
"We want to write a feature story about your machine too," Penny
continued. "For the newspaper."
The request displeased the professor. Scowling, he said curtly:
"I am sorry, but there must be no publicity at this time--orders of the
Navy, you know."
"The Navy is interested in buying your machine?" Penny asked, hoping to
lead him on.
"The deal is concluded except for my signature," the professor said,
darting a quick glance at Mr. Johnson. "I should have signed at once, but
I promised Mr. Johnson first chance to buy the machine."
"I suppose the Navy men are in town now?" Penny inquired.
"In Riverview."
"At the Gables Hotel?" Penny pursued the subject.
The professor looked at her sharply, for the first time suspecting that
she was inducing him to reveal far too much.
Without answering, he turned his back, and began to talk to Mr. Johnson
about technical details of the machine.
"I am convinced it is a wonderful invention," the latter declared. "But
before I invest $200,000, I must be absolutely certain that it will do
everything you claim."
"You shall not be disappointed," reassured the professor. "Only be
patient for a few minutes, and you will witness a demonstration that will
convince you beyond a shadow of a doubt."
Ignored by the professor and his wife, Penny and Salt did not enter the
cabin. Instead, they walked a short distance away to discuss their next
move.
"The demonstration won't start for a few minutes," the photographer said.
"Suppose we ankle down to the lake and find out what Webb is doing."
Proceeding down the path which led around the lake shore, they soon
sighted the man's glowing lantern. He had set it down on the ground while
he trundled out one of the heavy mines from the shack. As they watched
from a distance, he loaded it into a boat, picked up the lantern, and
slowly rowed out into the lake.
"Apparently he's going to drop it overboard for the test," Salt said.
"While he's out there, let's take a look in the shack."
He tried the door. It was locked.
"I don't know how it's done, but I'm sure those mines are doctored in
some way," Penny declared. "Louise and I saw Webb working on one when we
were here yesterday, but what he did I couldn't guess."
"We'll learn nothing here," Salt said. "Let's go back to the cabin and
see how the professor pulls off the demonstration. Apparently he has Mr.
Johnson two-thirds convinced already."
"Whatever you do, don't get into an argument with the professor about
your camera until after the test," Penny pleaded as they started up the
slope again. "I want to watch the demonstration. If you accuse him of
deliberately keeping the camera, he may throw us out."
"Okay, I'll wait," Salt promised.
Reaching the cabin, the pair became instantly aware of a tenseness in the
attitude of the professor and his wife. Although they did not tell the
newcomers they were unwelcome, it was evident by their expressions that
they distrusted Penny and Salt.
Professor Bettenridge stood behind his machine, explaining its many parts
to the awed spectators. Penny could make nothing of the technical jargon.
"The demonstration will soon start," the professor declared, looking at
his watch. "I will turn on the motors now, as they must heat for several
minutes."
He turned several switches and the room was filled with a low humming
sound. Two tiny lights buried deep in the complicated mechanism began to
glow a cherry red. The professor bent low over the machine, frowning
thoughtfully. He adjusted three of the concave mirrors, and switched on
another motor.
Despite a dubious attitude, Penny found herself becoming deeply
impressed. Was it possible, she wondered, that she had misjudged the
professor and his machine? She dismissed the thought. The mine never
would explode unless it had been tampered with--she was certain of that.
"Watch closely now," the professor directed. "At any moment my assistant
will signal with his lantern that he has dropped the mine and is safely
away from the area."
The professor's wife had gone to the doorway. Tensely she watched the
lake. Minutes passed. Then from out on the water, there came a moving
circle of red--the signal from Webb.
"Now!" exclaimed the professor's wife.
Everyone in the little cabin held his breath. Dramatically, Professor
Bettenridge took a metal tuning fork and struck it sharply against the
crystal ball in the center of his machine.
"It will take a moment for the sound to reach the lake," he said softly.
"But only a moment. Watch closely."
All persons in the room crowded to the door and the windows. Suddenly a
huge burst of flame appeared on the lake, fanning out on the surface of
the water. A moment later came the dull boom of a terrific explosion.
CHAPTER
16
_SUSPICION_
Everyone who witnessed the spectacular demonstration was awed by the
sight of the flames rising above the lake. As they died away, Professor
Bettenridge, strutting a bit, walked back to his machine and covered it
with the canvas hood.
"Now are you satisfied?" he inquired triumphantly. "Is there anyone here
who doubts the remarkable possibilities of my invention?"
"It was a fine demonstration! Magnificent!" approved Mr. Johnson, fairly
beside himself with excitement. "I am convinced of the machine's worth
and if we can agree upon terms I will write you a check tonight."
Professor Bettenridge's expression did not change, but the brief glance
he flashed his wife was not lost upon Penny or Salt.
"You understand, of course," he said smoothly, "that the Navy probably
will insist upon ultimate purchase of the machine even if I relinquish
ownership?"
"Certainly," agreed Mr. Johnson. "I should expect to make such a sale.
The machine would have no practical use except in warfare."
Penny was tempted to ask the man if he considered it patriotic to try to
obtain control of a machine in the hope of selling it to the government
at a high profit to himself. But she wisely remained silent.
Salt, however, had a few pointed remarks to offer.
"How come," he observed, "that if this invention is so remarkable, the
Navy hasn't already snapped it up?"
Professor Bettenridge froze him with a glance. "Young man," he said
cuttingly, "you evidently do not understand how government business is
conducted. Negotiations take months to complete. My wife and I need cash,
so for that reason, we are willing to sell the machine quickly."
"Yesterday I understood you to say that Navy men were ready to complete
the deal," Penny interposed innocently. "Did they change their minds?"
"Certainly not!" Professor Bettenridge's dark eyes flashed, and only by
great effort did he maintain control of his temper. "You understand that
while their recommendation would eventually be acted upon, a sale still
would take many months to complete."
"Will your machine explode mines on land as well as in the water?" Salt
inquired.
"Of course!"
"Then why not give us a land demonstration?"
"Us!" the professor mocked, his patience at an end. "Young man, you were
not invited here, and I might add that your presence irritates me! Are
you in any way associated with Mr. Johnson?"
"I am not."
"Then kindly do not inject yourself into our negotiations."
"The young man raises an interesting point," Mr. Johnson interposed,
frowning thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should have a land demonstration
before I pay over the money."
"So you doubt my honesty?" the professor demanded.
"Not at all. It's only that I must be very careful before I purchase such
an expensive machine. I must satisfy myself that it will do everything
you claim for it."
"You have just witnessed a successful demonstration. What more do you
ask?"
"A successful water test," Salt remarked softly, "does not necessarily
mean a successful land test."
"I think we should have a land test," Mr. Johnson decided. "If you
convince me that the machine will work equally well under such
circumstances, I will write the check instantly."
"A land test is impossible," the professor said stiffly.
"But why?" inquired Mr. Johnson.
"The dangers are too great. Windows would be smashed for many miles
around. Authorities would not permit such a test. Only with the greater
difficulty did I obtain permission to discharge the mines under water."
"I had not thought of that," Mr. Johnson acknowledged. He hesitated, and
it was evident that in another moment he would decide to purchase the
machine without further tests.
"Mr. Johnson, I suppose you have witnessed tests made with your own
mines," Penny interposed. "Or have they all been made with those supplied
by the professor?"
The remark infuriated Mr. and Mrs. Bettenridge, as she had expected it
would.
"You and this young man are trying to discredit my machine!" he exclaimed
wrathfully. "Please leave."
"Why, certainly," agreed Penny, but made no move to depart.
Seeds of suspicion already had been implanted in Mr. Johnson's mind.
"The young lady is right," he said. "I should request a test on a mine
which I provide myself."
"Ridiculous!" snapped the professor. "The machine will work equally well
on any mine."
"Then surely you should not object to one further test?"
"The delay is unnecessary."
"I am certain I can provide a mine within two days," insisted Mr.
Johnson. "Suppose we set the next test for Thursday night at this same
hour?"
Thus trapped, Professor Bettenridge could not refuse without losing the
sale. Scowling, he gave in.
"Very well. But this will be the final demonstration. If you are not
satisfied Thursday night, the deal is off."
"Agreed," said Mr. Johnson.
Bowing to the Bettenridges, he departed. Others who had witnessed the
demonstration began to melt away. Only Salt and Penny remained.
Professor Bettenridge closed the door so that the conversation would not
be overheard. Then he turned angrily to the pair.
"Now what's your little game?" he demanded. "You deliberately tried to
queer my sale? Why?"
"Mr. Johnson seems like such an innocent little rabbit, maybe we thought
he ought to be protected," Salt drawled.
"Protected! Why, he's being given the opportunity of a lifetime! How much
is it worth to you to keep out of my affairs?"
"Not a cent," Salt retorted. "We don't want any part of your deal. But
there's something I did come here for--my camera."
"I've already told the young lady I know nothing about it. If you were
stupid enough to throw it into a passing automobile, then you deserve to
lose it. Now get out!"
Salt was tempted to argue the matter, but Penny took his arm, pulling him
toward the door. The professor slammed it hard behind them as they went
out into the night.
"That fellow is a crook!" Salt exploded. "I'll bet a cookie he has my
camera too!"
"Well, we can't prove it," Penny sighed. "After all, we did act in a
high-handed way. We may have queered his sale to Mr. Johnson."
"A good thing if we have."
"But we have no proof the machine is a fake. With our own eyes we saw the
mine explode. Of course, we think Webb tampered with it in some fashion,
but we're not certain of that either."
"The proof of the pudding will come Thursday night when and if the old
boy explodes Mr. Johnson's mine."
"He's just clever enough to do it, too," Penny said gloomily.
The couple had walked only a short distance up the lane when they were
startled to hear a shrill whistle in the darkness. It came from the
beach.
Halting, they waited. In a moment the sound was repeated. Then to their
surprise, came an answering whistle from inside Professor Bettenridge's
cabin.
"That must be Webb," Salt whispered, observing a shadowy form
approaching. "The whistle evidently is a signal to make certain the coast
is clear."
As they watched, the hunched figure emerged from the darkness, was
silhouetted momentarily in the light which came from the cabin, then
disappeared inside.
"I wish we knew what they were talking about in there," Penny said. "It
might clear up some of the mystery."