by Joan Clark
CHAPTER XVIII
At the Old Sawmill
From the outside, Penny could not have told that the old mill was inuse. It was surrounded by unkempt trees and shrubs which hid it fromthe road. Cracks in the decaying boards had been carefully patched sothat no light from inside could show through.
Keeping behind the bushes, Penny made a complete tour of the building.She could find no means of entrance other than the main double doorsthrough which the truck had driven. Only after a second minuteinspection did she notice a small window at the rear well above thelevel of her head.
"If I can get up there I might be able to see what is going on inside,"she thought.
Even on tiptoe she could not reach the window. Going down to the rivershe found an old orange crate which had washed up on the bank.Carrying it back to the window she set it underneath and climbed up.
She peered into the building. The window opened directly into a dark,deserted little room, but directly beyond she could observe several menmoving about. It was impossible to see what they were doing.
Thinking that perhaps she might overhear their conversation, she priedat the window. To her surprise it was readily raised.
But she could hear only a low murmur of voices. It was impossible todistinguish a single phrase.
"I might just as well be a million miles away as here," she toldherself. "I have a notion to climb inside."
Penny took after her father in that she seldom experienced thesensation of fear. She knew well enough that she was taking a graverisk in entering the building, yet if she were to learn anything whichwould aid Mr. Nichols in his case against the automobile accessorythieves, she must be courageous.
Naturally agile, Penny raised herself to the ledge by sheer strength ofher arms. She hesitated an instant, then dropped lightly down insidethe sawmill.
She moved a few steps forward, then returned to quietly close thewindow. While it cut off her escape, she realized that the open windowwould be a telltale sign should anyone notice it.
She crept toward the adjoining main room from whence came the lowmurmur of voices. Secreting herself behind a tall pile of old sawedboards, she peered through the doorway.
The truck had pulled up at one side of the room. Several rough lookingmen were engaged in unloading the wheels. Penny's eyes fastened uponthe man who directed the others. It was Rap Molberg.
"Get a move on!" he ordered tersely. "We can't stall around all night."
The wheels were trundled out one by one from the rear end of the truck,and the men, six in all, fell to work with their tools, defacing theserial numbers and substituting others. Penny watched in fascination.
Her gaze wandered to Jerry Barrows who had driven the truck to thesawmill. He sat apart, apparently taking no interest in what was goingon.
Somewhere in the building a telephone rang. As one of the men cametoward her, Penny shrank down behind the pile of lumber. He passed soclose that she could have reached out and touched him had she chosen.
The man went into a small anteroom and Penny heard him answer thetelephone. She could not distinguish the words, but presently hereturned to the main room.
"It was the big boss," he reported to Rap Molberg. "He called fromSomm Center."
"What's he doing there?" Rap demanded irritably. "Doesn't he think I'mcapable of handling this end?"
"He's on his way here now," the other informed. "He says he has a hottip that Christopher Nichols is wise to our hideout!"
"That snooper!" Molberg snarled. "I should have known he was up tosomething when he left town so suddenly."
"The cops may be down on us any minute."
"Then we're getting out of here without leaving any evidence behind!"Molberg snapped. "Get busy, men!"
All fell to work with a will save Jerry Barrows.
"You!" Rap shouted angrily. "This is no time for loafing!"
"I agreed to drive a truck, but I didn't say I'd deface tires and helpwith your thieving!" the boy retorted bitterly. "I'm sick and tired ofthe whole deal."
"Oh, so you're sick and tired of it, are you?" the other echoedsarcastically. "You're in this the same as the rest of us, and if wego to the pen, you go with us! Now get to work or I'll----"
He left the threat unsaid, for just then an automobile engine was heardoutside the building. Everyone froze in an attitude of listening.Molberg dropped his tools and ran to peer out through a tiny peep-holein the wall.
"It's all right," he said in relief. "It's the boss. He must haveburned up the road getting here from Somm Center."
The wide doors were flung open and a high-powered motor car drove intothe building. George Brunner alighted.
"There's no time to waste," he informed tersely. "Load up those wheelsand get them out of here!"
"We haven't finished defacing the numbers," Molberg told him.
"We can't stop for that. The important thing is to get this placecleared of evidence before the police pounce down on us."
Quickly the wheels which had been unloaded were stacked back into thetruck. Brunner turned sharply upon Jerry Barrows.
"There's your load!" he snapped. "Get going with it!"
The boy made no move to obey.
"Did you hear?" Brunner snarled.
"I heard," Jerry Barrows retorted coldly, "but I'm not driving thattruck out of here tonight. I'm through!"
"We'll see about that!" Brunner came toward him menacingly.
The boy cringed in terror but stood his ground.
"I've been thinking it over," he said determinedly. "I'd rather go tojail than keep on as I have. I've driven my last truck load of stolenwheels!"
Brunner caught him roughly by the shoulder.
"You're yellow!" he sneered. "But I know how to handle your kind.I'll just let your father hear that his son has become a thief! Howwill you like that?"
All color had drained from the boy's face. In the light from theworkmen's torches, it appeared almost ghostly.
"You know it will just about kill my father if he learns the truth!"
"Then you'll do as I say!"
The boy hesitated, seemingly almost on the verge of giving in. Then hethrew back his head defiantly.
"No, I've made up my mind! I'm through for good!"
"That's your final decision?"
"It is."
Without warning, Brunner's fist shot out. He struck the boy squarelyunder the chin. Jerry Barrows' knees crumpled beneath him and hesagged to the floor.
Brunner turned to the others who stood watching.
"Anyone here who feels the same way?"
No one spoke.
"Then back to your work!" Brunner commanded. "Clear the building ofevery scrap of evidence."
Penny was horrified at the scene she had witnessed. Jerry Barrows layso motionless upon the floor that she was afraid he had been seriouslyinjured. She longed to go to his aid, yet dared not make a move lestshe betray her presence.
"If only I could get word to the police or to Father!" she thoughttensely. "By the time I drive back to Belton City for help it will betoo late."
The telephone! If she could but reach the antechamber it might bepossible to notify the authorities.
Watching her chance, she tiptoed across the open space to the littleroom. The men were so occupied with their work that they did notglance in her direction. No sound betrayed her.
Penny reached the chamber in safety, and quietly closed the door. Itwas dark inside and at first she could not locate the telephone. Butafter groping about, she found it on the wall.
"I'll try Father's office," she decided. "There's just a chance thathe may have returned."
Her hand trembled as she took down the receiver. She was fully awareof the risk she was taking in attempting the telephone call.
Muffling her voice and speaking very low, she gave the number of herfather's office to the operator. There was a long wait. She couldhear a rhythmical buzz on the wire. The bell
was ringing but no oneanswered.
"I must try the police," Penny thought.
Just then she heard a click at the other end of the line. A receiverhad been taken from its hook.
"Hello, Christopher Nichols speaking," acknowledged the familiar voiceof her father.
In her excitement, Penny began an almost incoherent outpouring of whatshe had witnessed.
"You say you've seen the tire thieves at work?" Mr. Nichols demanded.
"Yes, bring the police, and they can be trapped with the evidence! Buthurry or it will be too late!"
"Where are you now, Penny?" her father questioned tensely.
"At the old sawmill. Take the road----"
A slight sound directly behind caused Penny to turn her head. RapMolberg stood in the doorway!
