Brunner’s automobile was moving away from the curbing. Penny did not have a minute to debate. The instant that the tire shop owner vanished inside his store, she darted to her own car.
Already Brunner was far up the street, but by speeding she managed to approach close enough to keep him within sight.
“Perhaps I’d better take Joe into my confidence,” she thought a trifle uneasily. “There’s no telling where this chase may end.”
She glanced back, but the detective’s familiar black coupé was not in view. Nor did she see it when she looked again a few blocks farther on.
“I’ve lost him somewhere,” she told herself in annoyance. “If that isn’t my luck! Just when I might have used him to advantage!”
Penny soon discovered that George Brunner was returning to his own garage. As he drove into the building she drew up at the curbing, puzzled as to how she could shadow him further.
Then it occurred to her that she was directly opposite her father’s office. From there it would be a simple matter to keep watch of the Brunner garage without attracting attention to her own actions.
Before taking up her station in the little room high above the street, Penny fortified herself with several sandwiches and a bottle of milk purchased at a café nearby. Then she was ready for her vigil.
An hour passed and nothing happened. There was little activity at the Brunner garage. Several motorists stopped at the red pump for gasoline, but that was all.
“Perhaps my hunch was wrong,” Penny thought as she grew tired of waiting. “I really haven’t much reason for being suspicious of Brunner.”
After a time she used her father’s telephone to call home. No one answered. Obviously, Mrs. Gallup had not returned.
“I wonder what detained her,” Penny mused. “It isn’t like her to stay away.”
She remained at her seat by the window. Several times she was tempted to pick up a magazine and read for a few minutes. She resisted the impulse, remembering that she had heard her father say that a good investigator never took his eye from the place or person he was watching.
Another hour dragged by. Penny grew tired and bored. It was a warm night and the tiny room had become oppressive.
“I’ll wait a little while longer,” she decided.
Penny ate the last of her sandwiches and wished that she had bought coffee instead of milk. It would have helped her to stay awake.
Suddenly she became alert. A man stood in the doorway of the Brunner garage alley entrance. She did not need her father’s field glass to see that it was the manager. He looked at his watch, then cast a glance up and down the street.
Penny studied her own wrist watch. It was exactly ten o’clock.
A garage service car rolled swiftly down the street. It swerved into the alley.
Simultaneously, Brunner swung wide the rear doors of the garage. The truck drove in, but not before Penny had riveted her eyes upon the license number.
At sight of the last three figures, her heart leaped. The numbers—684—were identical with those she had noted upon the license of the service car at the Big Dipper!
CHAPTER XVII
Under the Canvas
“It begins to look as if my hunch might be correct,” Penny told herself. “Unless that truck merely drove into the garage for gasoline or service, things look suspicious!”
She saw Brunner follow the car into the building, carefully closing the doors.
“If everything is honest and above board, why did they use the alley entrance when the other one is far more convenient?” she reflected. “Obviously, Brunner knew the car was coming at exactly ten o’clock too.”
Convinced that she was on the verge of important discoveries, Penny settled herself for a long wait. From her chair by the window she could watch both the alley and the main entrance.
A half hour elapsed, then another. At length Penny’s patience was rewarded. The alley doors swung open and a heavy truck which was covered over with a canvas top, emerged. The driver wore a cap and his head was bent low. In the semi-darkness of the dimly lighted street Penny could not catch even a glimpse of his face.
“I must follow that truck!” she thought tensely. “If Dad were here he would do it I feel sure! It’s the only chance to gain real evidence!”
She waited at the window only long enough to see that the car had turned down Center Avenue. Scribbling a brief message to her father explaining what she intended to do, she left the note where he would find it in the event he returned to the office that night. Then she raced to the street.
By the time she had her roadster started the covered truck had disappeared. However, turning down Center Avenue, Penny caught it at the first traffic light. Satisfied that she would have no trouble in keeping it in view, she slowed down, falling back to a distance which was not likely to arouse suspicion.
Penny had no idea where the chase would lead, although the truck seemed to be driving directly out of the city. From the slow rate of speed at which it traveled, she thought that it must be heavily loaded with cargo.
“If I only knew what was hidden under that canvas cover I might have the solution to the mystery,” she reflected. “I think I have it anyway, but I must secure definite evidence.”
Penny was fully aware that she had launched herself upon a dangerous enterprise. In some manner Joe Franey had lost track of her completely, and she could no longer count upon his protection. In an emergency she must depend entirely upon her own resources.
Before Penny had traveled many miles out of the city she began to grow alarmed because her gasoline gauge showed that she had scarcely a gallon left. Although she had her purse with her, it contained only a dollar. She could buy about five gallons of fuel, but should the truck lead her much farther into the country, she easily might find herself stranded.
Apparently, the driver ahead faced a similar need for gasoline. At the next filling station he turned in.
Penny determined upon a bold move. At the risk of detection, she too drove into the station.
“This will give me just the opportunity I need to get a good look at that driver!” she thought.
The truck had pulled up alongside of one of the three pumps but as Penny stopped in the shadow where the light from the filling station office would not shine fully upon her, she was disappointed to see that the driver’s seat was empty.
“He’s gone off somewhere,” she told herself. “If only I could be sure he’d be away for a minute or two, I’d peep under that canvas cover and see what it is he’s hauling.”
Before she could transfer the thought into action, a filling station attendant came to serve her.
“How many?” he inquired.
“Three gallons,” Penny said.
While the attendant operated the pump, she looked searchingly about. The driver of the truck was talking with someone inside the office, but his back was turned so that she could not see his face.
“Sixty-three cents,” the attendant informed politely. “Shall I look at your oil?”
“It’s all right I think,” Penny responded, offering the money. The man went inside for change.
“This is my only chance!” Penny told herself.
Like a flash she was out of the roadster. She moved swiftly to the back of the truck, cast a quick glance toward the office, and seeing that she was unobserved, lifted a corner of the canvas cover.
The truck was loaded with automobile wheels.
A sound from the direction of the filling station office caused Penny to wheel. The driver was coming back!
She dropped the canvas flap and melted back into the shadow. She pretended to busy herself with the radiator cap of her own car.
“Everything okay, sir?” the station attendant asked, emerging from the office and addressing the truck driver.
“Yes, what do I owe?”
Penny started as she heard the voice. It was strangely familiar. If only she could see the driver’s face!
“Three-f
orty-two,” the attendant informed the trucker, in response to his question.
The driver gave him a bill and waited for his change. For the first time he turned toward Penny. She hastily averted her face, yet looked over her shoulder an instant later to view his.
“It’s Jerry Barrows!” she recognized. “Now I understand in what capacity he was employed by Brunner!”
The attendant had returned with the driver’s change and likewise her own. He noticed that she had removed the radiator cap from the roadster.
“Need water?” he questioned pleasantly.
“Please,” Penny said, very low.
At the sound of her voice, Jerry Barrows turned, but he saw nothing more than Penny’s back. Apparently satisfied that he had never seen the girl before, he climbed into his truck.
The attendant had peered down into the radiator of Penny’s car.
“It’s full to the top,” he reported.
“Why, so it is,” Penny acknowledged with a self-conscious laugh. “I guess I didn’t look very well.”
She stepped into the roadster but spent several minutes putting away her change and starting the motor. She did not wish to pull away from the station until after Jerry Barrows had left.
“I intend to find out where he’s taking those stolen wheels before I turn back,” she decided grimly.
After a seemingly interminable delay, the boy started his truck and pulled out of the station. Penny waited a few minutes longer and then followed.
For some time they traveled over a wide, national highway but presently the truck driver turned into a dirt road which wound in and out through the low hills. Several times Penny was forced to stop her car and wait by the roadside lest she draw too close to the vehicle ahead.
The trail led through a dense forest. Farm houses became farther and farther apart. After awhile they crossed a river, and directly beyond Penny noticed an odd wooden structure which appeared to be a rebuilt sawmill.
The truck turned into a narrow lane which led to the old building. Penny hesitated to follow lest the driver discover that he was being shadowed. She parked her car in a clump of bushes just off the road. Since leaving the main highway she had traveled without headlights.
The truck drew up near the sawmill. Penny could hear the roar of the powerful engine and see the headlight beam. Then the lights were switched off and the sound of the motor became muffled.
“He’s driven inside the building,” she decided. “Unless I get in there somehow, I’ll never discover what is going on.”
Penny debated, but in the end curiosity conquered fear. She left the roadster and stealthily made her way toward the sawmill.
CHAPTER XVIII
At the Old Sawmill
From the outside, Penny could not have told that the old mill was in use. It was surrounded by unkempt trees and shrubs which hid it from the road. Cracks in the decaying boards had been carefully patched so that 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 doors through which the truck had driven. Only after a second minute inspection did she notice a small window at the rear well above the level 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 river she 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 men moving about. It was impossible to see what they were doing.
Thinking that perhaps she might overhear their conversation, she pried at the window. To her surprise it was readily raised.
But she could hear only a low murmur of voices. It was impossible to distinguish a single phrase.
“I might just as well be a million miles away as here,” she told herself. “I have a notion to climb inside.”
Penny took after her father in that she seldom experienced the sensation of fear. She knew well enough that she was taking a grave risk in entering the building, yet if she were to learn anything which would aid Mr. Nichols in his case against the automobile accessory thieves, she must be courageous.
Naturally agile, Penny raised herself to the ledge by sheer strength of her arms. She hesitated an instant, then dropped lightly down inside the sawmill.
She moved a few steps forward, then returned to quietly close the window. While it cut off her escape, she realized that the open window would be a telltale sign should anyone notice it.
She crept toward the adjoining main room from whence came the low murmur of voices. Secreting herself behind a tall pile of old sawed boards, she peered through the doorway.
The truck had pulled up at one side of the room. Several rough looking men were engaged in unloading the wheels. Penny’s eyes fastened upon the 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 the serial numbers and substituting others. Penny watched in fascination.
Her gaze wandered to Jerry Barrows who had driven the truck to the sawmill. He sat apart, apparently taking no interest in what was going on.
Somewhere in the building a telephone rang. As one of the men came toward her, Penny shrank down behind the pile of lumber. He passed so close that she could have reached out and touched him had she chosen.
The man went into a small anteroom and Penny heard him answer the telephone. She could not distinguish the words, but presently he returned to the main room.
“It was the big boss,” he reported to Rap Molberg. “He called from Somm Center.”
“What’s he doing there?” Rap demanded irritably. “Doesn’t he think I’m capable of handling this end?”
“He’s on his way here now,” the other informed. “He says he has a hot tip that Christopher Nichols is wise to our hideout!”
“That snooper!” Molberg snarled. “I should have known he was up to something 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 help with your thieving!” the boy retorted bitterly. “I’m sick and tired of the whole deal.”
“Oh, so you’re sick and tired of it, are you?” the other echoed sarcastically. “You’re in this the same as the rest of us, and if we go 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 heard outside the building. Everyone froze in an attitude of listening. Molberg dropped his tools and ran to peer out through a tiny peep-hole in the wall.
“It’s all right,” he said in relief. “It’s the boss. He must have burned up the road getting here from Somm Center.”
The wide doors were flung open and a high-powered motor car drove into the building. George Brunner alighted.
“There’s no time to waste,” he informed tersely. “Load up those wheels and 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 place cleared of evidence before the police pounce down on us.”
Quickly the wheels which had been unloaded were stacked back into the truck. Brunner turned sharply upon Jerry Barrows.
“There’s your load!” he snapped. “Get going with i
t!”
The boy made no move to obey.
“Did you hear?” Brunner snarled.
“I heard,” Jerry Barrows retorted coldly, “but I’m not driving that truck 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 to jail than keep on as I have. I’ve driven my last truck load of stolen wheels!”
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! How will you like that?”
All color had drained from the boy’s face. In the light from the workmen’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 he threw 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 squarely under the chin. Jerry Barrows’ knees crumpled beneath him and he sagged 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 of every scrap of evidence.”
Penny was horrified at the scene she had witnessed. Jerry Barrows lay so motionless upon the floor that she was afraid he had been seriously injured. She longed to go to his aid, yet dared not make a move lest she betray her presence.
“If only I could get word to the police or to Father!” she thought tensely. “By the time I drive back to Belton City for help it will be too late.”
The telephone! If she could but reach the antechamber it might be possible to notify the authorities.
Watching her chance, she tiptoed across the open space to the little room. The men were so occupied with their work that they did not glance in her direction. No sound betrayed her.
The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 201
