which she gave to her father. Knowing they would be valuable in
establishing a case of attempted fraud against the professor, he kept
them.
"I wish Webb Nelson hadn't managed to escape," Penny remarked as the trio
went downstairs again. "He must have started for Newhall, perhaps to
catch a train."
"Any due at this time?" her father asked thoughtfully.
"I wouldn't know."
"Tell you what," Mr. Parker proposed. "We can do nothing more here. We
may as well drive to the village again and press an inquiry for Webb."
Once more the car with Salt as driver careened over the bumpy country
road to Newhall. They reached the town without sighting anyone who
resembled the professor's helper.
"Drive to the station," Mr. Parker instructed Salt. "There's an outside
chance Webb went there."
The depot was a drab little red building, deserted except for a
sleepy-eyed station agent who told them there was no passenger train
scheduled to leave Newhall before six o'clock the next morning.
"Any freight trains?" Mr. Parker inquired.
"A couple are overdue," the agent said. "No. 32 from the east, and No.
20, also westbound. No. 20's just coming into the block."
Although it seemed unlikely Webb would take a freight train out of town,
Mr. Parker, Salt and Penny, decided to wait for it to come in. They went
outside, standing in the shadow of the station.
"No sign of anyone around," Salt declared, looking carefully about. "We
may as well go back to the lake."
"Let's wait," Penny urged.
No. 20 rumbled into the station, stirring up a whirlwind of dust and
cinders. A trainman with a lantern over his arm, came into the station to
get his orders from the agent. He chatted a moment, then went out again,
swinging aboard one of the cars. A moment later, the train began to move.
"Shall we go?" Mr. Parker said impatiently.
Penny buttoned her coat as she stepped beyond the protection of the
building, for the night air was cold and penetrated her thin clothing.
Treading along behind her father and Salt to the car, she started to
climb in, when her attention riveted upon a lone figure some distance
from the railroad station. A man, who resembled Webb Nelson in build, had
emerged from behind a tool shed, and stood close to the tracks watching
the slowly moving freight.
Then he ran along beside the train and suddenly leaped into one of the
empty box cars.
"Dad! Salt!" she exclaimed. "I just saw someone leap into one of those
cars! I'm sure it was Webb!"
"Where?" demanded her father. "Which car?"
"The yellow one. Oh, he'll get away unless we can have him arrested at
the next town!"
"He won't escape if I can stop him!" Salt muttered.
Racing across the platform, he waited for the car Penny had indicated.
Although the train was moving faster now, he leaped and swung himself to
a sitting position in the open doorway.
"Look out! Look out!" Penny screamed in warning.
Behind Salt, the man who had taken refuge in the car, moved stealthily
toward him, obviously intending to push him off the train. But the
photographer knew what to expect and was prepared.
He whirled suddenly and scrambled to his feet. His attacker caught him
slightly off balance, and they went down together, rolling over and over
on the straw littered floor.
Worried for Salt, Penny and Mr. Parker ran along beside the train. The
publisher tried to leap aboard to help the photographer, but lacking the
younger man's athletic prowess, he could not make it. Already winded, he
began to fall behind.
Penny kept on and managed to grasp the doorway of the car, but she
instantly realized she could not swing herself through the opening. The
train now was moving rapidly and gaining speed each moment.
Inside the box car, the two men were rolling over and over, each fighting
desperately to gain the advantage. Penny could not see what was
happening. Forced by the speed of the train, she let go her hold. Her
feet were swept from beneath her, and she stumbled and fell along the
right of way.
Before she could scramble to her feet, her father had caught up with her.
"Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously.
Penny's knees were skinned but the injury was so trifling she did not
speak of it. Her one concern was for Salt.
"Oh, Dad," she said, grasping his arm nervously. "What are we going to
do? That brute may kill him!"
Mr. Parker shared Penny's concern, but he said calmly: "There's only one
thing we can do now. We'll have the station agent send a wire to the next
station. Police will meet the train and take Webb into custody."
"He may not be on the train by the time it reaches the next town! Oh,
Dad, Salt may be half killed before then!"
Penny and her father stared after the departing freight. The engineer
whistled for a high trestle spanning a narrow river, and the train began
to rumble over it.
Suddenly Penny stiffened into alert attention. In the doorway of the open
boxcar, she could see the two struggling men. Mr. Parker, too, became
tense.
As they watched fearfully, one of the men was pushed from the car. He
rolled over and over down a steep embankment toward the creek bed.
The other man, poised in the doorway an instant, then just before the car
reached the trestle, leaped.
CHAPTER
23
_ESCAPE BY NIGHT_
Fearful for Salt, Penny and her father ran down the tracks toward the
railroad trestle. Scrambling and sliding down the slippery embankment,
they saw Salt lying in a heap near the edge of the creek.
Webb, his ankle injured, was trying to hobble toward a corn field just
beyond the railroad right of way.
"Get him! Don't let him escape!" Salt cried, raising himself to his
knees.
Although alarmed for the photographer who appeared to have been injured
by his leap, Penny and her father pursued Webb. Handicapped as he was
with an injured ankle, they overtook him by the barbed wire fence.
Already badly battered from the fight, and bruised as a result of his
fall from the train, the man put up only a brief struggle as Mr. Parker
pinned him to the ground.
"Quick!" the publisher directed Penny. "See what you can do for Salt. He
may be badly injured."
The photographer, however, had struggled to his feet. He stood
unsteadily, staring down at his torn clothing.
"Are you all right?" Penny asked anxiously, running to his side.
"Yes, I'm okay," he said, gingerly touching a bruised jaw. "Boy! Is that
lad a scrapper? Did you see me push him out of the boxcar?"
"We certainly did, and we were frightened half to death! We thought you
would be killed."
Hobbling over to the fence, Salt confronted his assailant. Webb's face
was a sorry sight. His nose was crimson, both eyes were blackened and his
lip was bleeding.
"You may as well come along without making any more trouble," Mr. Parker
told him grimly. "Professor Bettenridge has been taken into custody, and
the entire fraud has been exposed."
"I figured that out when I heard the mine go off," the man returned
sullenly. "Okay, you got me, but I was only carrying out orders. I worked
for Professor Bettenridge, but any deals he made were his business, not
mine."
"That remains to be seen," replied Mr. Parker. "We'll let you talk to the
sheriff. Move along, and no monkey business."
Having no weapon, Salt and the publisher walked on either side of the
prisoner, while Penny brought up the rear.
"You don't need to hang onto me," he complained bitterly. "I ain't going
to try to escape."
"We're sure you won't," returned Salt, "because we'll be watching you
every step of the way."
At first, as the four tramped down the tracks toward the station, the
prisoner showed no disposition to talk. But gradually his curiosity
gained the better of him. He sought information about Professor
Bettenridge's arrest, and then tried to build up a story that would
convince his captors he had only been an employee hired on a weekly
basis.
"I suppose you know nothing about the _Snark_ either," Penny observed
bitterly. "After Ben Bartell and I pulled you out of the river, you
repaid us by stealing his watch."
To her astonishment, the man reached in his pocket and gave her the
timepiece.
"Here," he said gruffly, "give it back to him. I won't need it where I'm
going."
"Why did you take the watch when it didn't belong to you?" Penny pursued
the subject. "Especially after Ben risked his life to pull you out of the
river."
"Oh, I don't know," the man answered impatiently. "I needed a watch, so I
took it. Quit askin' so many questions."
"Why were you pushed off the _Snark_?" Penny demanded, refusing to
abandon the subject.
She did not expect Webb to answer the question as he had refused to
explain at the time of his rescue. To her surprise, he replied grimly:
"They tried to get rid of me. We had a disagreement over a job they
wanted me to pull."
"What job was that?" Mr. Parker interposed.
"Dynamiting the Conway Steel Plant."
The words produced a powerful effect upon the publisher, Salt, and Penny.
At their stunned silence, Webb added hastily:
"You understand, I didn't do it. They got sore because I refused to pull
the job."
"Why, that doesn't make sense," Penny protested. "Evidently, you are
mixed up on your dates, because the Conway Plant explosion took place
before the night we rescued you from the water."
"Sure, I know," the man muttered, trying to cover his slip of tongue.
"They were afraid I'd squawk to the police and that was why they pitched
me overboard."
"Who pulled the job?" Salt asked.
"I don't know. Someone was hired to set off the explosion."
Webb's story was accepted but not believed. Penny knew from previous
experience that the man was more inclined to tell a lie than the truth.
Convinced that he might have been implicated in the explosion, she
suddenly recalled his visit to the office of Jason Cordell. Could his
call there have any hidden significance?
"You're a friend of Mr. Cordell's, aren't you?" she inquired abruptly.
The question caught Webb off guard. He gave her a quick look but answered
in an indifferent way: "Never heard of him."
"I'm certain I saw you in his office," Penny insisted.
Realizing that his loose talk was building up trouble for himself, Webb
would say no more. At the sheriff's office, he repeated practically the
same story, insisting that he had been hired by Professor Bettenridge on
a wage basis, and that he was in no way implicated in the plot to defraud
Mr. Johnson.
"Your story doesn't hang together," Mr. Parker said severely. "Naturally
you knew that the professor's machine was worthless?"
"Not at first," Webb whined. "He only told me he wanted a mine exploded
at a certain time. It was only by chance that I learned he intended to
cheat Mr. Johnson."
"Considering the conversations I overheard between you and the professor,
that is a little hard to believe," Penny contributed.
"It might go a little easier with you, if you come through with the
truth," a deputy sheriff in charge of the office, added. "Anything you
want to say before we lock you up?"
Webb hesitated a long while, and then in a subdued voice said: "Okay, I
may as well tell you. Sure, I knew the professor and his wife were
crooks. They offered me a split on the profits if Johnson bought the
secret ray machine."
"Where did you obtain your mines?" Salt asked curiously.
"I don't know," Webb answered, and for once spoke the truth. "Professor
Bettenridge had a friend hooked up in a munitions plant who supplied him
with a few which were defective."
"Now tell us the truth about the _Snark_," Penny insisted. "You said
those men were mixed up in the dynamiting of the Conway Steel Plant. Was
that one of the professor's jobs?"
"No, he had nothing to do with it."
"His car was in the vicinity of the plant on the night of the explosion."
"It was just accident then," Webb maintained. "He had nothing to do with
it."
"Then you do know the persons involved?"
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," Webb said sullenly. "Why not go
to the _Snark_ and get information first hand if you want it."
It was evident the man would reveal no more, so the deputy sheriff locked
him up. Within a few minutes Professor Bettenridge and his wife were
brought in, and although they indignantly demanded release, they too were
placed in jail cells.
Mr. Johnson who had accompanied Major Bryan to the sheriff's office,
seemed rather stunned by the events which had transpired. He shook
Penny's hand and could not praise her enough for exposing the professor's
trickery.
"What a fool I was," he acknowledged. "His smooth talk hypnotized me.
Why, I might have paid a large sum of money to him, if it hadn't been for
you. Now I shall prosecute charges vigorously."
The wealthy man tried to press money upon both Penny and Salt, who
smilingly refused to accept it. They assured him that knowing the
professor's trick had failed was ample reward.
By the time Penny, her father and Salt finally reached the Parker home it
was nearly midnight. Somewhat to their surprise, Mrs. Weems was still
waiting up.
"I'm so glad you came!" she exclaimed, before they could explain what had
happened. "Nearly an hour ago someone telephoned, asking for Penny. I
think the message may be important."
"Who was it?" Penny asked.
"A man named Edward McClusky."
"The river diver!" Penny exclaimed. "What did he want, Mrs. Weems?"
"At first he wouldn't tell me, saying he had to talk to you personally.
However, I finally persuaded him to trust me with the message. He said:
'Tell Miss Parker that her friend Ben Bartell went aboard the _Snark_
last night and hasn't been seen since.'"
CHAPTER
24
_A RAID ON THE_ SNARK
"Oh, why didn't Mr. McClusky call the police instead?" Penny cried
anxiously. "Ben may be in serious trouble!" Turning to her father she
added: "Dad, we must go there right away!"
"To the _Snark_?" Mr. Parker frowned and reached for the telephone. "The
matter is one for the police, Penny. I'll call the night inspector."
Contacting the police station, the publisher explained why he believed it
advisable to search the _Snark_. He was assured that a squad would be
sent there at once to investigate.
"We've had other complaints about that vessel," the inspector said. "So
far we've not been able to find anything out of the way."
Having notified the police, Mr. Parker felt that his duty was done, but
not Penny.
"Dad, can't we go there too?" she pleaded. "Ben is in trouble and we may
be able to help him."
"I don't see what we could do, Penny. Besides, you know how I feel about
Ben."
"And you're dead wrong. You've done him a dreadful injustice. Tonight may
prove it."
Mr. Parker wavered, then suddenly gave in. "All right, get your heavy
coat," he instructed. "It will be cold along the waterfront."
Penny raced for the warm garment and joined her father and Salt as they
were backing the press car out of the driveway.
"The _Snark_ is tied up at Pier 23," Penny directed. "Straight down this
street and turn at Jackson."
The car reached the docks, parking alongside a dark warehouse. There was
no sign of the police. A short distance away, the _Snark_ with only dim
deck lights showing, and no one in view, tugged at her heavy ropes.
"We'll wait for the police," Mr. Parker decided.
Within five minutes, two cars glided noiselessly up to the pier and a
dozen men in uniform leaped out. Captain Bricker, in charge of the squad,
strode to the _Snark_ and called loudly: "Ahoy, there!"
No one answered.
"Ahoy, the _Snark_!" he shouted again.
Still receiving no answer, he ordered his men aboard. Single file, they
crawled cautiously up a ladder to the dark deck.
"Anyone aboard?" the captain called once more.
Salt, Mr. Parker and Penny, eager for first hand information, followed
the policemen up the ladder.
"My men will search the vessel," Captain Bricker told them, "but no one
appears to be aboard. Everything seems in order."
Spreading out over the ship, the policemen returned one by one to report
they could find nothing amiss. Not even a watchman was aboard.
"This seems to be a wild-goose chase, Captain," Mr. Parker apologized.
"Sorry to have bothered you. We considered our information reliable."
The policemen began to leave. Penny, lingering on deck until the last,
was being helped onto the ladder by Captain Bricker, when they both heard
a sound below decks.
"What was that?" the officer muttered, listening alertly.
"It sounded like someone thumping on a wall," Penny cried. "There it is
again!"
The noise was not repeated a third time, but Captain Bricker had heard
enough to make him believe that someone remained below. Drawing his
revolver, and warning Penny to keep back, he started down the dark
companionway.
At a safe distance, Penny trailed him. His bright flashlight beam cut
paths of light over the walls as he tried the doors.
"Anyone here?" he shouted.
A thumping noise came from a room on the right. Guided by the sound,
Captain Bricker tried the door. It was locked.
A powerfully built man, the officer hurled his weight against the door,
and the lock gave way. Keeping back, lest he become a target for a
bullet, he kicked the door open. The room was empty! But, the flashlight
beam caught the outline of a trapdoor in the floor. The officer flung it
open. Below, in the hold, lay a man gagged and bound hand and foot.
Following the police officer into the room, Penny uttered a little cry as
she recognized Ben Bartell. Blinking owlishly in the light which had been
focused upon him, he was a deplorable sight. His face was bruised, his
hair matted with blood, and one eye was swollen almost shut.
"Oh, Ben! What have they done to you?" Penny gasped in horror.
Captain Bricker cut the young man free, and pulled the gag from his
mouth. He helped Ben into a chair and then went to another cabin for
water.
"Who did this to you?" Penny asked, rubbing the reporter's hands to
restore circulation.
He seemed too exhausted to reply so she did not urge him to speak. The
captain brought water which Ben drank thirstily.
"He's evidently been tied up several hours," the officer commented.
"Since last night," Ben whispered, moistening his cracked lips.
"How did you get aboard?"
"I sneaked on when no one was looking--wanted to see what I could learn."
"Who were the men that tied you up?"
"Don't know. But before they caught me, I heard plenty. The men on this
boat are mixed up in the dynamiting of the Conway Steel Plant."
Penny nodded, for this information correlated with what she already had
learned.
"Was Webb Nelson involved in the plot?" she asked eagerly.
"He set off the dynamite according to what I overheard last night," Ben
revealed. "But he got into a fight with the gang over his pay for the
job. He tried to shake them down for a big sum, threatening to spill
everything to the police if they didn't cough up. It ended up in a fight,
and Webb was pushed overboard."
"Then we pulled him out of the river," Penny supplied. "But he refused to
tell us a thing."
"He knew better than to spill the story because he would have implicated
himself. And the gang aboard this boat had no fear either, because they
figured he was only pulling a bluff."
"But who was behind the plot?" Penny asked, puzzled. "What did the men
hope to gain by dynamiting the plant?"
"They did it on orders from a man higher up--a man who personally hates
the owner of the Conway Steel Plant."
"Then it was a grudge matter?" Captain Bricker inquired dubiously.
"Not entirely," Ben returned. "Labor troubles are mixed up in it. This
man, who represents a minor faction, has been trying to gain control over
the employes without much success. By planning a series of accidents
similar to the dynamiting, he thought he might bring the management
around to his way of thinking."
"Who is the leader?" Penny demanded impatiently.
Ben hesitated. "I hate to say," he confessed, "because I'm not absolutely
certain. In the conversation I overheard before I was caught, he wasn't
mentioned by name. But by putting two and two together, I have a fairly
good idea."
"Guessing won't do in this business," said Captain Bricker.
"I know that," admitted Ben. "But here is one bit of fact I gained. The
big boss was at the factory on the night of the explosion. In fact, he
was nearly caught, and a photographer snapped a picture of him as he
fled."
"You're sure of that?" Penny demanded excitedly.
"Yes, I heard the men talking about it. The boss has been worried for
fear that picture will show up and convict him."
"Now I'm beginning to understand," Penny murmured. "It explains why the
_Star_ photography room was broken into several times. Someone was after
those plates which weren't there!"
"What became of the pictures?" Captain Bricker asked. "They'll prove
valuable evidence."
"Why, Salt Sommers has the camera and plates in the press car. Of course,
we don't know what the plates will show until they're developed."
"We must have them at once," the captain said. He turned again to Ben.
"Now did you know any of the men who attacked you?"
"Not a one. But I can give you a fairly good description of most of them.
They're waterfront riff-raff."
"In that case some of them may have their pictures in our files," the
captain said. "I'll issue orders to round up all loiterers in this
neighborhood. You should be able to identify most of them in a police
line-up."
"I'm sure I can."
"Now about the higher-up, who engineered the scheme. You said you had an
idea who he is."
"That's right," agreed Ben. "The men spoke of him as a publisher. I don't
like to accuse him outright, because I'll be suspected of trying to get
even with a man I hate."
Light came swiftly to Penny. Into her mind leaped many facts hitherto
puzzling, but which now seemed suddenly clear. The open skylight--the
building adjoining the _Star_--Webb Nelson's call upon the editor of the
_Mirror_.
"Ben, you don't need to accuse anyone!" she cried. "I'll do it myself.
The man is Jason Cordell, and I think we can prove it too!"
CHAPTER
25
_PICTURE PROOF_
"Yes, Jason Cordell is the man responsible," Ben agreed soberly. "I can't
prove it, but in my own mind I'm sure."
"You used to work for him, didn't you?" the police captain inquired, the
inflection of his voice implying that he thought the former reporter
might be prejudiced.
"I was fired," Ben admitted readily. "Cordell let me go and blacklisted
me everywhere to prevent me from exposing him. He wanted to discredit me,
so that anything I might say would carry no weight."
"Why were you really discharged, Ben?" Penny asked. "What did you learn
about Mr. Cordell?"
"That he had pulled off no end of crooked deals and that he was mixed up
with this outlaw labor group. Over a period of three or four years,
Cordell has made a mint of money, and not from his paper either!"
"We'll question Cordell tonight," Captain Bricker promised. "The trick
now is to get you to the station for first aid treatment. Then we'll want
you to look through the police morgue and identify the pictures of as
many of the _Snark's_ crew as you can."
The officer turned to Penny. "As for those undeveloped plates, can you
get them right away?"
"I think so," Penny returned. While Captain Bricker helped Ben up the
companionway, she ran ahead to find her father and Salt and tell them of
the latest developments.
The two were waiting in the press car. But when Mr. Parker learned how
significant the pictures of the Conway Plant explosion might prove to be,
he surprised Penny by declining to turn them over immediately to the
police.
"We may want those plates for the _Star_," he declared. "If the police
once get their hands on them, it might be a job to get them back again in
time to be of any use to us."
"But Jason Cordell's arrest may depend upon them," Penny protested.
"We'll have the plates developed, and let police see them," Mr. Parker
decided. "But the plates must remain in our hands. Come on, let's go!"
At a nod from the publisher, Salt started the press car, and without
being instructed, headed for the _Star_ building.
"How long will it take you to develop those plates?" Mr. Parker asked the
photographer.
"Ten minutes."
"Good!" approved the publisher. "If they reveal anything, we'll telephone
the police station at once."
As the car coasted to a standstill alongside the _Star_ building, Penny's
gaze roved to the darkened offices next door. All of the floors save one
were without light. But in the suite occupied by the _Mirror_, a man
plainly could be seen moving to and fro.