Saboteurs on the River

by Mildred A. Wirt

  CHAPTER 2 _FRONT PAGE NEWS_

  Although one of the main concrete piers had been damaged by theexplosion, the approaches to the bridge remained intact. Severalautomobiles drew up at the curbing, but others, their drivers unaware ofwhat had caused the blast, sped on across.

  From their position beneath the bridge, Louise, Penny, and the watchmancould see the entire steel structure quiver. The underpinning had beenweakened, but whether or not it was safe for traffic to proceed, only anengineer could determine.

  "Oughtn't we stop the cars?" Penny demanded, for the watchman seemedstunned by what had happened. His eyes were fixed on the opposite shore,at a point amid the trees where the pilot of the motorboat had crawledfrom the water.

  "Yes, yes," he muttered, bringing his attention once more to the bridge."No chance to catch that saboteur now. We must stop the autos."

  Shouting as he ran, the watchman scrambled up the steep slope to thewestern approach of the bridge. Realizing that he would be unable to copewith traffic moving from two directions, the girls hesitated, and thendecided to help him. Their wet shoes provided poor traction on the hill.Slipping, sliding, clothing plastered to their bodies, they reached thebridge level.

  "You hold the cars at this end!" ordered the watchman as he glimpsedthem. "I'll lower the gate at the other side!"

  Stationing themselves at the entrance to the bridge, Louise and Pennyforced motorists to halt at the curb. Within a minute or two, a long linehad formed.

  "What's wrong?" demanded one irate driver. "An accident?"

  "Bridge damaged," Penny replied tersely.

  All along the line horns began to toot. A few of the more curiousmotorists alighted and came to bombard the girls with questions. In themidst of the excitement, one of the cars broke out of line and crept tothe very end of the pavement.

  "Listen, Mister," Penny began indignantly to the driver. "You'll have toback up. You can't cross--" she broke off as she recognized the man atthe wheel. "Dad! Well, for Pete's sake!"

  "Penny!" the newspaper man exclaimed, no less dumbfounded. "What are youand Louise doing here? And in those wet clothes?"

  "Policing the bridge. Dad, there's a big story for you here! A saboteurjust blew up one of the piers by ramming it with a motorboat!"

  "I thought I heard an explosion as I was driving down Clark Street!"exclaimed Mr. Parker. Opening the car door, he leaped out and wrapped hisovercoat about Penny's shivering shoulders. "Now tell me exactly whathappened."

  As calmly as they could, the girls reported how the saboteur haddynamited the bridge.

  "This is a front page story!" the newspaper owner cried jubilantly."Penny, you and Louise take my car and scoot for home. When you get therecall the _Star_ office. Have Editor DeWitt send a reporter to helpme--Jerry Livingston, if he's around. We'll need a crack photographertoo--Salt Sommers."

  "I can get the call through much quicker by running to the drugstore."Penny jerked her head toward a cluster of buildings not far from thebridge entrance. "As for going home at a moment like this, never!"

  "So you want a case of pneumonia?" Mr. Parker barked. "How'd you get wetanyhow?"

  "Sailboat," Penny answered briefly. She took the car keys from herfather, and pressed them upon Louise.

  "But I don't want to go if you don't," her chum argued.

  "You're more susceptible to pneumonia than I am," Penny said, giving hera little push. "Dash on home, and get into warm, dry clothing. And don'tforget to take off that life preserver before you hop into bed!"

  Thus urged, Louise reluctantly backed Mr. Parker's car to the mainstreet, and drove away.

  "Now I'll slosh over to the drugstore and call the _Star_ office," Pennyoffered briskly. "Lend me a nickel, Dad."

  "I'm crazy as an eel to let you stay," Mr. Parker muttered, fumbling inhis pocket for a coin. "You should have gone with Louise."

  "Let's argue about that tomorrow, Dad. Right now we must work fast unlesswe want other newspapers to scoop us on this story."

  While her father remained behind to direct bridge traffic, Penny ran tothe nearest drugstore. Darting into the one telephone booth ahead of anastonished woman customer, she called Editor DeWitt of the _Star_.Tersely she relayed her father's orders.

  "Jerry and Salt will be out there in five minutes," DeWitt promised. "Nowwhat can you give us on the explosion? Did you witness it?"

  "Did I?" echoed Penny. "Why, I practically caused it!"

  With no further encouragement, she launched into a vivid, eye-witnessaccount of the bridge dynamiting. As she talked, a re-write man onanother telephone, took down everything she reported.

  "Now about the saboteur's motorboat," he said as she finished. "Can yougive us a description of it?"

  "Not a very good one," Penny admitted. "It looked like one of Ottman'srented boats with an outboard attached. In fact, Louise and I saw asimilar craft earlier in the evening which was cruising not far from thebridge."

  "Then you think the saboteur may have rented his boat from Ottman's?"

  "Well, it's a possibility."

  "You've given us some good stuff!" the rewrite man praised. "DeWitt'sgetting out an extra. Shoot us any new facts as soon as you can."

  "Dad's on the job full blast," Penny answered. "He'll soon have all thedetails for you."

  Slamming out of the telephone booth, she ran back to the bridge. Herfather no longer directed traffic, but had turned the task over to apompous motorist who thoroughly enjoyed his authority.

  "You can't cross, young lady," he said as she sought to pass him."Bridge's unsafe."

  "I'm a reporter for the _Star_," Penny replied confidently.

  The man stared at her bedraggled clothing. "A reporter?" he inquireddubiously.

  Just then a police car, its siren shrilling, sped up to the bridge. Closebehind came another car which bore a printed card "_Star_" on itswindshield. It braked to a standstill nearby and out leaped two youngmen, Jerry Livingston and Salt Sommers.

  "Hello, Penny!" Jerry greeted her. "Might have known you'd be here.Where's the Chief?"

  "Somewhere, sleuthing around," Penny answered. "I lost him a minute agowhen I telephoned the _Star_ office."

  Salt Sommers, a felt hat cocked low over his eyes, began unloadingphotographic equipment from the coupe.

  "Where'll I get the best shots?" he asked Penny. "Other side or this?"

  "Under the bridge," she directed crisply. "None of the damage shows fromabove."

  Salt slung the heavy camera over his shoulder, and disappeared down theincline which led to the river bed.

  Before Jerry and Penny could move away, Mr. Parker hurried up with thewatchman in tow.

  "This is Carl Oaks, bridge guard," he announced without preliminary."Take him over to the drugstore, Jerry, and put him on the wire. We wanthis complete story for the _Star_."

  "Not so fast," drawled a voice from behind. "We want to talk to CarlOaks."

  One of the policemen, a detective, moved over to the group and began toquestion the watchman.

  "It wasn't my fault the bridge was dynamited," the old fellow whined. "Ishouted at the boatman and fired twice."

  "He got away?"

  "Yeah. Jumped overboard before the boat struck the pier. Last I saw ofhim, he was climbing out of the river on the other shore."

  "At what point?"

  "Right over there." The watchman indicated a clump of maples beyond thefar side of the bridge. "I could see him plainly from the beach."

  "And what were _you_ doing on the beach?" questioned the detectivesharply.

  "Ask her," Carl Oaks muttered, eyeing Penny.

  "Mr. Oaks helped my friend and me when our sailboat upset," she supportedhis story. "It really wasn't his fault that he was away from his post atthe time of the explosion."

  Both Penny and the watchman were questioned at considerable length by thedetective. Meanwhile, other officers were searching for the escapedsabo
teur. Several members of the squad went beneath the bridge to inspectthe damage and collect shattered sections of the wrecked boat.

  Dismissed at last by the detective, Penny, her father and Jerry crossedthe bridge to join in the search. Carl Oaks, whose answers did notentirely satisfy police, was detained for further questioning.

  "Penny, tell me more about this fellow Oaks," Mr. Parker urged hisdaughter. "I suppose he did his best to stop the saboteur?"

  "It seemed so to me," Penny replied slowly. "He was a miserable marksman,though. I guess he must have been excited when he fired."

  Following a trail of moving lights, the trio soon came to a group ofpolicemen who were examining footprints in the mud of the river bank.

  "This is where the saboteur got away," Penny whispered to her father. "Doyou suppose the fellow is still hiding in the woods?"

  "Not likely," Mr. Parker answered. "A job of this sort would be plannedin every detail."

  The newspaper owner's words were borne out a few minutes later when apoliceman came upon a clump of bushes where an automobile had stood.Grass was crushed, a small patch of oil was visible, and the soft earthshowed tire imprints.

  Penny, her father and Jerry, did not remain long in the vicinity.Satisfied that the saboteur had made his get-away by car, they were eagerto report their findings to the _Star_ office.

  Mr. Parker telephoned DeWitt and then joined the others at the press car.As Salt Sommers climbed aboard with his camera, an automobile bearing a_News_ windshield sticker, skidded to a stop nearby.

  "Too bad, boys," Salt taunted the rival photographers. "Better late thannever!"

  Already news vendors were crying the _Star's_ first extra. Once well awayfrom the bridge, Mr. Parker stopped the car to buy a paper.

  "Nice going," he declared in satisfaction as he scanned the big blackheadlines. "We beat every other Riverview paper by a good margin. Acolorful story, too."

  "Thanks to whom?" demanded Penny, giving him a pinch.

  "I suppose I should say, to you," he admitted with a grin. "However, Isee you've already received ample credit. DeWitt gave you a by-line."

  "Did he really?" Penny took the paper from her father's hand and gazedaffectionately at her own name in print. "Nice of him. Especially when Ididn't even suggest the idea."

  To a newspaper reporter, a story tagged with his own name means highhonor. Many times Penny, ever alert for news, had enjoyed thesatisfaction of seeing her stories appear with a by-line. Early in hercareer as a self-made newspaper girl, her contributions had been regardedas something of an annoyance to her father and the staff of the _Star_.But of late she had turned in many of the paper's best scoops andincidentally, had solved a few mysteries.

  "This is the way I like a story written," Mr. Parker declared, readingaloud from the account which bore his daughter's name. "No floweryphrases. Just a straight version of how your sailboat upset and what yousaw as it floated down toward the bridge."

  "It's a pretty drab account if you ask me," sniffed Penny. "I could havewritten it up much better myself. Why, the re-write man didn't even tellhow Louise and I happened to upset!"

  "A detail of no importance," Mr. Parker returned. "I mean, in connectionwith the story," he corrected hastily as Penny flashed him an injuredlook. "What did cause you to capsize?"

  "A blue bottle, Dad. It had a piece of paper inside. I was reaching forit and--oh, my aunt!"

  "Now what?" demanded her father.

  "Turn the car around and drive back to the bridge!"

  "Drive back? Why?"

  "I've lost that blue bottle," Penny fairly wailed. "Louise had it, but Iknow she didn't take it home with her. It must be lying somewhere on thebeach near our stranded sailboat. Oh, please Dad, turn back!"