  In the radio room of the Eloise III, Mr. Parker, Jerry, and the three girls hovered at the elbow of Commodore Phillips who sat at the radio-telephone. “I’ve done all I can,” the Commodore said, putting aside the instrument. “The Coast Guard station has acknowledged our message. Now we must wait.” The Eloise which had picked up Mr. Parker’s party, was heading at full steam toward the Seventh Street Bridge. Unmindful of the rain, the young people went out on deck. Huddling in the lee of the cabin, they anxiously watched and listened. “It’s one fifteen,” said Mr. Parker, glancing at his watch. “Any minute now—” A loud report sounded over the water. “The bridge!” gasped Louise. “It’s been dynamited!” “No, no!” exclaimed the Commodore impatiently. “That was gunfire! The Coast Guard boat has gone into action!” A moment later those aboard the Eloise saw a flash of fire and heard another loud report. “You may rest easy now,” said the Commodore, relaxing. “With the Coast Guard on the job, that saboteur hasn’t a chance. If he escapes with his life he’ll be lucky.” Penny sagged weakly against the railing of the Eloise. Now that she knew the bridge would be saved, she felt completely exhausted from the long period of suspense. “Wessler can’t be the only one involved in this plot,” she heard her father say. “There must be others.” “Oh, there are!” Penny cried, recovering her strength. “Carl Oaks is a member of the outfit! He’s waiting at a shack not far from the ark. And Burt Ottman is held a prisoner there!” “Burt!” Sara exclaimed in horror. “Oh, why didn’t you tell me!” “In the excitement it just passed out of my mind,” Penny confessed. “I forgot about everything except saving the bridge!” Once more Commodore Phillips busied himself on the radio telephone, this time contacting Riverview police. Before he left his desk he learned that a squad had been dispatched to the shack in the woods. Likewise, a message soon came from the Coast Guard station, informing him that Jard Wessler had been captured. “Oh, I can’t wait to see Burt,” Sara declared, anxiously pacing the deck. “He may be seriously hurt.” To ease the girl’s mind, Commodore Phillips put the entire party ashore not far from the entrance to Bug Run. Hastening through the woods, Mr. Parker and the young people reached the shack only a few minutes after the arrival of police. “What became of Carl Oaks?” the newspaper owner asked a sergeant. “Did you get him?” The policeman indicated a downcast figure who sat handcuffed inside the patrol car. Oaks, he explained, had been captured without a struggle. “And Burt Ottman?” Mr. Parker inquired. “They’re taking him to the ambulance now.” Four men came out of the shack bearing the injured young man on a stretcher. Pale but conscious, he grinned as Sara tearfully bent over him. “I’m okay, Sis,” he mumbled. “Feelin’ swell.” Sara was allowed to ride with her brother to the hospital. Remaining behind, Mr. Parker, Jerry and the girls, tried to learn from police officers if Burt had made any statement. “Sure, he was able to spill the whole story,” one of the men told them. “Seems he set out to prove that he was innocent of any association with the saboteurs. Instead of cooperating with police, he went to work on his own. He investigated an organization known as the American Protective Society. That put him on the trail of a head waiter at The Green Parrot, a foreigner by the name of Jard Wessler.” “I understand now why Burt acted so queer about that billfold he lost along the river,” Penny commented. “He didn’t want me to know that he was meeting one of the saboteurs at the Parrot.” “How many were involved in the dynamiting plot?” Mr. Parker asked. “Twelve or thirteen. According to Ottman, Jard Wessler is the brains of the group. By pretending to go along with them, the kid gathered a lot of evidence.” “But at first the saboteurs tried to throw the guilt on Burt,” Penny protested. “True,” nodded the policeman. “They used a boat stolen from the Ottman dock, and they planted evidence to make it appear that Burt was the guilty one.” “Then why would they take up with him later?” Penny asked in perplexity. “They never did. One of the saboteurs met him at The Green Parrot to try to learn how much the kid knew. Young Ottman was slugged over the head when he tried to get into a basement room where the gang held their meetings.” “I guess that explains why we found Burt lying outside in the alley,” Mr. Parker remarked. “It’s a pity he couldn’t have told us what he was attempting to do.” “The kid did get a lot of evidence,” resumed the officer. “With the information he’s given us, we expect to mop up the entire gang.” “Louise and I found him a prisoner here at the shack,” Penny remarked slowly. “I suppose in seeking evidence, he tangled with the saboteurs again.” “Yes, young Ottman was foolhardy. He was caught spying a second time and they slugged him. Lucky for him his injuries aren’t likely to prove serious.” Mr. Parker and Jerry asked many more questions, knowing the story would rate important play in the Riverview Star. Turning Penny and Louise over to Mr. Sidell who belatedly joined the party, the two newspaper men rushed off to scoop rival papers. “Dad didn’t even take time to say he was glad we escaped from those saboteurs!” Penny complained to Louise. “Isn’t that a newspaper man for you!” Before another hour had elapsed, reporters and photographers from other papers swarmed the woods. Louise and Penny were quizzed regarding the capture of the three saboteurs. Determined that the Star should print an exclusive story, they had very little to say. Hours later, at home, Penny learned that police had lost no time in acting upon information provided by Burt Ottman. The entire group of men known to be associated with Jard Wessler had been arrested at a Fourteenth Street club. A complete confession had been signed by Carl Oaks who claimed that he was not a member of the gang, but had been hired to do as instructed. “Well, the Star scooped every paper in town,” Mr. Parker remarked, as he put aside the front page. “That’s not important, however, compared to saving the Seventh Street Bridge.” “How about your daughter?” Penny asked, rumpling his hair. “Aren’t you one speck glad about saving me?” “I’ve been reserving a special lecture for you,” he said, pretending to be stern. “Young ladies who go running about at night—” “Never mind,” laughed Penny, “If Lou and I hadn’t done our prowling, I guess you wouldn’t have any old Seventh Street Bridge!” Actually Mr. Parker was very proud of his daughter and showed it in many ways. He would not allow Mrs. Weems to scold her for the night’s escapade. Learning that she was worried about Old Noah, he promised to talk to Sheriff Anderson and do what he could for the old fellow. The next morning, he and Penny started off to see Noah, stopping enroute at the hospital. “Oh, I’m so glad you came!” Sara Ottman greeted them at her brother’s bedside. “Burt and I owe you so much. I’ve been very unpleasant—” “Not at all,” corrected Penny. “Anyway, I like folks who aren’t afraid to speak their minds.” From Burt Ottman, Mr. Parker and his daughter heard a story much like the one previously told them by the police. The young man rapidly had gained in strength and was much cheered because he had been cleared in connection with the bridge dynamitings. “How did you learn that Jard Wessler was a saboteur?” Mr. Parker asked him. “Accident,” admitted Burt. “Even before the bridge was blasted, I had seen the fellow around the docks. One day I overheard him talking to Breneham, and what they said made me suspicious. After getting involved in the mess myself, I made it my business to investigate. I managed to meet one of the saboteurs at the Parrot, but he proved too shrewd for me.” “You woke up in the alley,” Penny recalled. “Yes, after that I watched a place I’d learned about on Fourteenth Street. Figured I had all the dope. But as I started for the police, someone hit me with a blackjack. That’s the last I remember until I came to at the woods shack.” Penny and her father were pleased to know that the young man was recovering from his injuries. After chatting with him for a time, they left the hospital and proceeded toward the ark in the mud flats. “I confess I don’t know what to say to Noah,” Mr. Parker declared as they approached the gangplank. “Sheriff Anderson insists the ark is a nuisance and must go.” Penny paused at the edge of the stream. It had started to rain once more, and drops splattered down through the trees, rippling the quiet water. “Poor Noah!” she sighed. “He’ll be unwilling to leave his home or his animals. This ark never can be floated either.” “I’ll be glad to pay for his lodging elsewhere,” Mr. Parker offered. “Naturally, he’ll have to forsake his pets.” Crossing the gangplank, Penny called Old Noah’s name. There was no answer. Not until she had shouted many times did the old fellow come up from the ark’s hold. His arms were grimy, his clothing wet from the waist down. “Why, Noah!” Penny exclaimed, astonished by his appearance. “All morning I have labored,” the old fellow said wearily. “The commotion last night excited Bess, my cow. The critter kicked a hole in the ark. Water has poured in faster than I can pump it out.” “Well, why not abandon this old boat?” Mr. Parker proposed, quick to seize an opportunity. “Wouldn’t you like to live in a steam-heated apartment?” “With my animals?” “No, you would have to leave them behind.” Old Noah shook his head. “I could not desert my animals. At least not my dogs and cats, or my birds or fowls. As for cows and goats, they are a burden almost beyond my strength.” “A little place in the country might suit you,” suggested Penny brightly. As Noah showed no interest, she added: “Or how would you like a big bus? You could take your smaller pets and tour the United States!” Old Noah’s dull blue eyes began to gleam. “I had a truck once,” he said. “They took it away from me after I had made a payment. I’ve always hankered to see the country. But it’s not to be.” “Oh, a truck might be arranged,” declared Penny, grinning at her father. “It’s not that.” Old Noah leaned heavily on the railing of the ark. “You might say I made a covenant to keep this place of refuge. The Great Flood soon will be upon us—” “There will be no flood,” interrupted Mr. Parker impatiently. “I’d be happy to leave this ark if only I could believe that,” sighed Noah. “I’m getting older, and it’s a great burden to care for so many animals. But I must not shirk my duty because I am tired.” Penny knew that the old man could not be influenced by mere words. Glancing at the sky, she saw that although rain still fell, the sun had straggled through the clouds. Above the trees arched a beautiful rainbow. “Noah!” she cried, directing his attention to it. “Don’t you remember the Bible quotation: ‘And I do set my bow in the cloud and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.’” “‘And the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh,’” Noah whispered, his fascinated gaze upon the rainbow. “There, you have your sign, your token,” Mr. Parker said briskly. “Yes, yes,” whispered the old man. “This is the hour for which I long have waited! Behold the rainbow which rolleth back the scroll of destiny! Never again will the flood come. Never again will destruction envelop the earth and all its creatures.” “How about it Noah?” Mr. Parker asked impatiently. “If I make all arrangements will you leave the ark?” The old man did not hesitate. “Yes, I will go,” he said. “My mission here is finished. I am content.” Penny and her father did not annoy the old man with material details, but slipped quietly away from the ark. Glancing back, they saw that Noah still stood at the railing, his face turned raptly toward the fading rainbow. As the last trace of color disappeared from the sky, he bowed his head in worshipful reverence. A moment he stood thus, and then, turning, walked with dignity into the ark. “Poor old fellow,” said Penny. “I suppose you mean Noah,” chuckled Mr. Parker. “But I deserve sympathy too. Haven’t I just been knicked to the tune of an expensive truck?” “You don’t really mind, do you, Dad?” “No, it’s worth it to have the old fellow satisfied,” Mr. Parker responded. “And then, the ark brought me a big story for the Star.” Penny walked silently beside her father. With the saboteurs in jail, Burt Ottman free, and Old Noah’s future settled, she had not a worry in the world. Rounding a bend of the stream, she glimpsed a shining blue bottle caught in the backwash of a fallen log. Eagerly she started to rescue it. “Don’t tell me you expect to collect every one of those messages!” protested Mr. Parker. “Every single one,” laughed Penny, raking in the bottle. “You see, last night I lost a very pretty cameo pin. Until I find it, I’ll never admit that the case of the saboteurs is closed!” |
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