“Now will you tell me what I did to deserve a crack like that?” Penny muttered as the door of the boathouse slammed behind Sara Ottman.
“Not a single thing,” Louise answered loyally. “She just rolled out from beneath that boat with a dagger between her teeth!”
“I guess I am a little prig, Lou.”
“You’re no such thing!” Louise grasped her arm and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Come along and forget it. I never did like Sara Ottman anyhow.”
Penny allowed herself to be led away from the dock, but the older girl’s unkind remarks kept pricking her mind. Although occasionally in the past she had stopped for a few minutes at the Ottman place, she never before had spoken a dozen words to Sara. Nearly all of her business dealings had been with Burt Ottman, a pleasant young man who had painted her father’s sailboat that spring.
“I simply can’t understand it,” Penny mumbled, trudging along the shore with Louise. “The last time I saw Sara she spoke to me politely enough. I must have offended her, but how?”
“Oh, why waste any thought on her?” Louise scoffed.
“Because it bothers me. She mentioned the bridge dynamiting affair. Maybe it was my by-line story in theStarthat offended her.”
“What did it say?” Louise inquired curiously. “I didn’t see the morning paper.”
“Neither did I. I gave my story to a rewrite man over the telephone. I meant to read the entire account, but was in a hurry to get over here, so I skipped it.”
“Well, I shouldn’t worry about the matter if I were you.”
“I’m sure the boat used in the dynamiting came from Ottman’s,” Penny declared, thinking aloud. “Perhaps Sara is just out of sorts because she and her brother lost their property.”
Making their way along the mud flats, the girls came at last to the tiny stretch of sand where the sailboat had been beached the previous night. It lay exactly as they had left it, cockpit half filled with water, the tall mast nosed into the loose sand.
“What a mess,” sighed Penny. “Well, the first thing to do is to get the wet sail off. We should have taken care of it last night.”
Before beginning the task, the girls wandered toward the nearby bridge to inspect the damage caused by dynamiting. An armed soldier refused to allow them to approach closer than twenty yards. All traffic had been halted, and a group of engineers could be seen examining the shattered pier.
“Is Mr. Oaks around here?” Penny asked the soldier.
“Oaks? Oh, you mean the bridge watchman. He’s been charged with neglect of duty, and relieved of his job.”
Penny and Louise were sorry to hear the news, feeling that in a way they were responsible for the old fellow having left his post. Unable to learn whether or not the watchman was being detained by police, they returned to the beach to salvage their sailboat.
Without a pump, it was a difficult task to remove the water from the cockpit of “Pop’s Worry.” By rocking the boat back and forth and scooping with an old tin can, the girls finally got most of it out.
“We’ll have to dry the sail somehow or it will mildew,” Penny decided. “The best thing, I think, is to put it on again and sail home.”
Together they righted the boat. As the tall mast flipped out of the sand, Penny caught glimpse of a shiny, blue object.
“Our bottle!” she cried triumphantly, making a dive for it.
“Your bottle,” corrected Louise. “I’m not a bit interested in that silly old thing.”
Nevertheless, as Penny sat down on the deck of “Pop’s Worry” and removed the cork, she edged nearer. By means of a hairpin, the folded sheet of paper contained within was pulled from the narrow neck. Highly elated, Penny spread out the message to read.
“Well, what does it say?” Louise inquired impatiently.
“Oh, so you are interested,” teased Penny.
“Now don’t try to be funny! Read the message.”
Penny stared at the paper in her hand. “It’s rather queer,” she acknowledged. “Listen:
“‘The day of the Great Deluge approaches. If you would be saved from destruction, seek without delay, the shelter of my ark.’”
“If that isn’t nonsense!” Louise exclaimed, peering over her chum’s shoulder. “And the note is signed, ‘Noah.’”
“Someone’s idea of a joke, I suppose,” Penny replied. She tossed the paper away, then reconsidering, retrieved the message and with the bottle, placed it in the cockpit of the boat. “Well, it’s rained a lot this Spring, but I don’t think we’ll have to worry about the Great Deluge.”
“Noah was a Biblical character,” Louise commented thoughtfully. “I remember that when God told him it would rain forty days and forty nights, he built an ark to resist the flood waters. And he took his family in with him and all the animals, two by two.”
“Noah was a bit before our time,” laughed Penny. “Suppose we shove off for home.”
By dint of much physical exertion, the girls pushed “Pop’s Worry” out into the shallow water. Penny, who had removed shoes and stockings, gave a final thrust and leaped lightly aboard. Raising the wet sail, she allowed it to flap loosely in the wind.
“We’ll have everything snug and dry by the time we reach home,” she declared confidently. “Tired, Lou?”
“A little,” admitted her chum, stretching out full length on the deck. “I like to sail but I don’t like to bail! And just think, if you hadn’t been so crazy to get that blue bottle, we’d have spared ourselves a lot of hard work.”
“Well, a fellow never knows. The bottle might have provided the first clue in an absorbing mystery! Who do you suppose wrote such an odd message?”
“How should I know?” yawned Louise. “Probably some prankster.”
Taking a zigzag course, “Pop’s Worry” tacked slowly upstream. Whipped by a brisk wind, the wet sail gradually dried and regained its former shape.
As the boat presently approached Ottman’s dock, both girls turned to gaze in that direction. Sara could be seen moving about on one of the floating platforms, retying several boats which banged at their moorings.
“Better tack,” Louise advised in a low tone. “We don’t want to get too close.”
Penny acted as if she had not heard. She made no move to bring the boat about.
“We’ll end up right at Ottman’s unless you’re careful,” Louise warned. “Or is that what you want to do?”
“I’m thinking about it.” Penny watched Sara with thoughtful eyes.
“Well, if you’ll deliberately go there again, I must say you enjoy being insulted!”
“I’d like to find out why Sara is angry at me. If it’s only a misunderstanding I want to clear it up.”
Louise shook her head sadly but offered no further protest as the boat held to its course. Not until the craft grated gently against one of the floats at Ottman’s did Sara seem to note the girls’ approach. Glancing up from her work, she stared at them, and then deliberately looked away.
“The air’s still chilly,” Penny remarked in an undertone. “Well, we’ll see.”
Making “Pop’s Worry” fast to a spar, she walked across the float to confront Sara.
“Miss Ottman,” she began quietly, “if I’ve done anything to offend you, I wish to apologize.”
Sara turned slowly to face Penny. “You owe me no apology,” she said in a cold voice.
“Then why do you dislike me? I always thought I was welcome around here until today. My father has given you considerable business.”
“I’m sorry I spoke to you the way I did,” Sara replied stiffly and with no warmth. “It was rude of me.”
“But why am I such poison?” Penny persisted. “What have I done?”
“Youhonestlydon’t know?”
“Why, of course not. I shouldn’t be asking if I did.”
Sara stared at Penny as if wondering whether or not to accept her remarks as sincere.
“Do you only write for the papers?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice. “You never read them?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Penny was truly bewildered. “Has this misunderstanding something to do with the bridge dynamiting?”
Sara nodded her head grimly. “It has,” she agreed. “Didn’t you see the morning paper?”
“Why, no.”
“Then wait a minute.” Sara turned and vanished into the boat shed. A moment later she reappeared, carrying a copy of theStar.
“Read that,” she directed, thrusting the black headlines in front of Penny’s eyes. “Now do you understand why I feel that you’re no friend of mine?”
Penny gazed at theRiverview Star’sfront page headline which proclaimed:
“BURT OTTMAN ARRESTED AS SUSPECT IN BRIDGE DYNAMITING.”
The opening paragraph of the news story, was even more dismaying. It began:
“Acting upon information provided by Miss Penelope Parker, police today arrested Burt Ottman, owner of the Ottman Boat Dock, charging him with participation in the Friday night dynamiting of Thompson’s bridge.”
Penny hastily scanned the remainder of the story and then protested: “But I never even mentioned your brother’s name to police, Miss Ottman! Why, I certainly didn’t think that he had any connection with the dynamiting.”
“You certainly didn’t think, period,” Sara replied, though in a less severe tone. “You told police that the motorboat used in the dynamiting was one of our boats.”
“Well, it looked like it to me. Perhaps I was mistaken.”
“You weren’t mistaken. The boat definitely was one of ours. It was stolen from here about a month ago.”
Penny drew a deep breath. “Then in that case, I don’t see why suspicion should fall upon your brother.”
“Didn’t you tell police that a young man corresponding to his description was handling the boat?”
“Indeed I didn’t.”
“Then it must have been the watchman who provided the description,” Sara corrected. “At any rate, police identified the boat as ours, and arrested Burt. They have him at the station now.”
“It never occurred to me that anyone would suspect your brother,” Penny said soberly. “Why, everyone along the river knows him well. It should be easy for him to prove his innocence.”
“True, it should be,” Sara replied bitterly. “The arrest angered Burt, and he made matters worse by refusing to answer questions the police asked him.”
“Oh, that was a mistake.”
“Yes, but Burt has a great deal of pride. The police never should have arrested him.”
“I certainly agree with you,” declared Penny, for she could not envision young Ottman as a saboteur. “Can’t your brother prove where he was last night at the time of the explosion?”
“That’s just it.” Sara looked troubled as she reached to take the newspaper. “He refuses to offer any alibi.”
“But you must know yourself where your brother spent his time.”
“I wish I did. He left here about seven o’clock and didn’t return home until early this morning—just a half hour before the police came to arrest him.”
“Oh!”
“All the same, Burt had no connection with the dynamiting,” Sara said quickly. “He frequently stays out late at night. I’ve never questioned him, for it was none of my affair.”
Penny scarcely knew what to reply. “I can understand now why you’re provoked at me,” she said after a moment. “But I assure you I had no intention of involving your brother with the police. I certainly never gave them his description.”
Sara smiled and in a charming gesture extended her hand.
“I’m sorry I talked as I did to you,” she apologized. “Forget it, will you?”
“Of course,” Penny agreed generously. “And if there’s anything I can do to help—”
The float creaked and both girls turned to see Bill Evans coming toward them.
“Hi!” he greeted the girls impartially. “Miss Ottman, wonder if I can get you to help me?”
“I suppose you’re having trouble with that motor of yours again,” sighed Sara. “Or should I say yet?”
“I’ve lost it in the river,” Bill confessed sheepishly. “Blamed thing cost me sixty dollars second-hand too!”
“In the river!” gasped Penny. “What did you do, get peeved and toss it overboard?”
The saddened young man shook his head. “Guess I didn’t have it fastened on very well. Anyhow, just as I was leaving the dock, off she fell into about ten feet of water.”
“I hope you buoyed the spot,” said Sara.
“Yes, I marked it with a floating can. Some of the boys have been trying to get ’er up for me, but no luck. If you can do it, I’ll pay five dollars.”
“Well, I’m pretty busy,” Miss Ottman said in a harassed voice. “Burt’s not here and it keeps me jumping to run the launch and rent the canoes. But I’ll see what I can do this afternoon.”
“Thanks,” Bill replied gratefully, turning away. “Thanks a lot.”
When the young man was beyond hearing distance, Penny spoke again of Burt Ottman’s unfortunate arrest.
“I’m sorry about everything, Miss Ottman,” she said earnestly. “If you wish, I’ll talk to the police and assure them that so far as I know, the saboteur did not resemble your brother. It was too dark for me to really see him.”
“I’ll feel very grateful if you will speak a good word for Burt,” Sara responded. She sank down on an overturned bucket and pressed a hand to her temple. “Oh, my head’s splitting! Everything’s been coming at me so fast. The police were here questioning me and they twisted my remarks all around. I’ll have to raise bail for Burt, but where the money is coming from I don’t know.”
The last of Penny’s resentment toward the girl faded away. From the jerky way Sara spoke, she knew that her thoughts were darting from one perplexing problem to another.
“I don’t know what I’m doing or saying today,” Sara said miserably. “If you can forgive me—”
“Of course! I don’t blame you a bit for speaking to me the way you did. May I borrow a sponge for a minute?”
Sara smiled and nodded. Eager to make amends, she ran into the shed and returned with the desired article.
“There’s still a little water in my boat,” Penny explained. “Thought I’d sop it up.”
“Let me do it,” Sara offered. Without waiting for permission she went to the sailboat, and with a friendly nod at the astonished Louise, began to sponge out the cockpit.
“I see you’ve collected one of Old Noah’s souvenirs,” she remarked a moment later, noticing the blue bottle which Penny had tossed into the bottom of the boat.
“We found it floating in the water,” Louise volunteered. “The message was such a queer one—an invitation to take refuge in the ark during the Great Deluge. Someone’s idea of a joke, I suppose.”
“It’s no joke,” Sara corrected. “Noah is a very real person. He actually lives in an ark too—a weird looking boat he built himself.”
“You mean the old fellow actually believes there’s going to be another great flood?” Penny asked incredulously.
“Oh, yes! Noah is so sure of it that he’s collected a regular menagerie of animals to live with him on the ark. He keeps dropping bottles into the water warning folks that the Great Deluge is coming. I fish out dozens of them here at the dock.”
“Where is the ark?” Penny inquired curiously.
Sara squeezed the last drop of water from the sponge and pointed diagonally upstream toward a gap in the trees.
“That’s where Bug Run empties into the river,” she explained. “Noah has his ark grounded not far from its mouth. The currents are such that whenever he dumps his bottles in the water most of them come this way.”
“Rather a nuisance I should think,” commented Penny.
“Noah’s a pest!” Sara complained, straightening from her task. “I suppose he’s harmless, but those bottles of his create a hazard for our boats. Burt has asked him several times not to throw them in the water. He just keeps right on doing it.”
The sun now was directly overhead and Penny and Louise knew that they were expected at their homes for luncheon. Thanking Sara for her services, they sailed on to their own dock. As they hastened through the park to a bus line, Penny remarked that it would be fun sometime to visit Noah and his ark.
“Well, perhaps,” Louise rejoined without a great deal of enthusiasm.
The buses were off schedule and for a long while the girls waited impatiently at the street corner. Penny was gazing absently toward a cafe nearby when a short, untidy man with shaggy gray hair, came out of the building.
“Why, isn’t that Mr. Oaks, the bridge watchman?” she asked her chum.
“It looks like him.”
From far up the street an approaching bus could be seen, but Penny had lost all interest in boarding it.
“Louise, let’s talk to Mr. Oaks,” she urged, starting toward him.
“But we’ll miss our bus.”
“Who cares about that?” Penny took Louise firmly by an elbow, pulling her along. “We may not have another chance to see Mr. Oaks. I want to ask him why he identified the saboteur as Sara Ottman’s brother.”
Carl Oaks saw the girls approaching, and recognized them with a curt nod of his head. He responded to their cheerful greeting, but with no warmth.
“I was hoping to see you, Mr. Oaks,” Penny began the conversation. “Last night Louise and I had no opportunity to express our appreciation for the way you helped us.”
“Well, I didn’t help myself any,” the old watchman broke in. “It was sure bad luck for me when your sailboat came floatin’ down the river. Now I’ve lost my job.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Mr. Oaks resumed in a whining tone. “I’ve never been strong and I can’t do hard work.”
“Perhaps you can find another job as a watchman.”
“No one will take me on after what happened last night.”
“But it wasn’t your fault the bridge was dynamited.”
“Folks always are ready to push a man down if they get the chance,” Mr. Oaks said bitterly. “No, I’m finished in this seedy town! I’d pull out if I had the price of a ticket.”
Penny was decidedly troubled. “You mustn’t take that attitude, Mr. Oaks,” she replied. “Maybe I can help you.”
The watchman looked interested, but amused. “How can you help me?” he demanded.
“My father owns theRiverview Star. Perhaps he can use an extra watchman at the newspaper building. If not, he may know someone who will employ you.”
“I’ve always worked around the waterfront,” Mr. Oaks returned, brightening a bit. “You know I ain’t able to do much walkin’ or any heavy lifting. Maybe your father can get me another job on a bridge.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Penny responded. “I’ll talk to him. Just give me your address so I can notify you later.”
Mr. Oaks scribbled a few lines on the back of an old envelope and handed it to her. He did not express appreciation for the offer Penny had made, accepting it as his just due.
“I suppose the police questioned you about the bridge dynamiting,” she remarked, pocketing the address.
“Sure, they gave me the works,” he acknowledged, shrugging. “Kept me at the station half the night. Then this morning they had me identify one of the suspects.”
“NotBurt Ottman?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t identify him as the saboteur?” Penny inquired in dismay.
“I told the police he looked like the fellow. And he did.”
“But how could you see his face?” Penny protested. “The motorboat traveled so fast! Even when the man crawled out of the water and ran, one could only tell that he was tall and thin.”
“He looked like young Ottman to me,” the watchman insisted stubbornly. “Well, guess I’ll shove on. You talk to your father and let me know about that job. I can use ’er.”
Without giving the girls a chance to ask another question, Mr. Oaks moved off down the street.
“Now if things aren’t in a nice mess,” Penny remarked as she and Louise retraced their way to the bus stop. “No wonder the police held Burt Ottman! I don’t see how Mr. Oaks could have thought he resembled the saboteur.”
“I’m sure I didn’t get a good look at the fellow,” Louise returned. “Mr. Oaks must have wonderful eyes, to say the least.”
After a ten minute wait, a bus came along, and the girls rode to their separate homes. Penny ate luncheon, helped Mrs. Weems with the dishes and then slipped away to her father’s newspaper office.
An early afternoon edition of theStarhad just rolled from the press. Entering the editorial room, Penny noted that it appeared to have been swept by a whirlwind. Discarded copy lay on the floor, and there were more wads of paper around the scrap baskets than in them.
Jerry Livingston’s battered typewriter served as a comfortable foot rest for his unpolished shoes. Seeing Penny, he removed them to the floor, and grinned at her.
“Hello, Miss Pop-Eye!” he said affectionately. “How’s our little sailor?”
“Never mind,” returned Penny. “What’s this I hear about Burt Ottman being arrested by the police?”
“That’s how it is.” The grin faded from the reporter’s face. “Tough on DeWitt too.”
“DeWitt?” Penny inquired. She could not guess what connection the editor might have with the dynamiting case.
Jerry glanced about the news room to make certain that DeWitt was not within hearing. In a low tone he confided:
“Didn’t you know? Burt Ottman is DeWitt’s first cousin. It rather puts him in a spot, being kin to a saboteur.”
“Nothing has been proved against Ottman yet.”
“All the same, it looks bad for the kid. When the story came in it gave DeWitt a nasty jolt.”
“I should think so,” nodded Penny. “Why, I never dreamed that he was related to the Ottmans.”
“Neither did anyone else in the office. But you have to hand it to DeWitt. He took it squarely between the eyes. Didn’t even play the story down nor ask your father to soft pedal it.”
“Mr. DeWitt is a real newspaper man.”
“Bet your life!” Jerry agreed with emphasis. “He’s gone young Ottman’s bail to the tune of ten thousand dollars.”
“Why, that must represent a good portion of his life time savings.”
“Sure, but DeWitt says the kid has been framed, and he’s going to stand by him.”
“I think myself that Burt Ottman was too far away to be properly identified. I mean to tell the police so, too.”
“Well, we all hope for DeWitt’s sake that it is a mistake,” Jerry said soberly. “But the evidence is stacking up fast. The motorboat came from Ottman’s. Carl Oaks said he recognized the saboteur as young Ottman. Then this morning police found a handkerchief with an initial ‘O’ lying along the shore not far from where the fellow crawled out of the water.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
“Maybe so,” Jerry agreed with a shrug, “but unless young Ottman gets a good lawyer, he’s likely to find himself doing a long stretch.”
Deeply troubled by the information, Penny went on toward her father’s private office. As she passed the main copy desk where Editor DeWitt worked, she noticed that his face was white and tense. Although he usually had a smile for her, he barely glanced up and did not speak.
Penny tapped twice and entered her father’s office. Mr. Parker had just finished dictating a letter to his secretary who quietly gathered up her notebook and departed. The newspaper owner pretended to glance at the calendar on his desk.
“Unless I’m all muddled, this is Saturday, not Thursday,” he greeted his daughter teasingly. “Aren’t you a bit mixed up?”
“Maybe so,” Penny admitted, seating herself on a corner of the desk.
“You seldom honor me with a call except to collect your Thursday allowance.”
“Oh, I’m not concerned with money these days,” Penny said, trying to balance a paper weight on her father’s head. “It’s this dynamiting case that has me all tied in a knot.”
“Stop it, Penny!” Irritably, Mr. Parker squirmed in his chair. “This is an office, not a child’s play room!”
“Try to give me your undivided attention, Dad. I want you to do me a favor.”
“How about granting me one first? Please stop playing with the gadgets on my desk!”
“Why, of course,” grinned Penny, backing away. “Now about this job for Carl Oaks—”
“Job?”
“Yes, he was relieved of duty at the Thompson bridge, you know. It was partly my fault. So I want you to square matters by finding other work for him.”
“Penny, I amnotan employment agency! Anyway, what do I know about the man?”
“I owe him a job, Dad. He says he likes to work around the waterfront. Can’t you get him something to do? Oh, yes, it has to be an easy job because he can’t walk and he can’t lift anything.”
“How about a nice pension?” Mr. Parker demanded. He sighed and added, “Well, I’ll see what I can do for him. Now run along, because I have work to get out.”
Feeling certain that her father would find a suitable position for the old watchman, Penny went directly from the newspaper office to Louise Sidell’s home. After relating all the latest news, she asked her chum if she would not enjoy another excursion to the river.
“But we were just there a few hours ago!” Louise protested. “I’ve had enough sailing for one day.”
“Oh, I don’t care to sail either,” Penny corrected hastily. “I thought it might be interesting to call on Old Noah.”
“That queer old man who has the ark?”
“What do you say?”
“Oh, all right,” Louise agreed, rather intrigued by the prospect. “But if we get into trouble, just remember it was your idea.”
By bus the girls rode to a point near the river. Without approaching Ottman’s Dock, they crossed the Big Bear over Thompson’s bridge which had just been opened to pedestrian traffic only. Making their way along the eastern shore, they came at last to the mouth of Bug Run.
“It looks like rain to me,” Louise declared, scanning the fast-moving clouds. “Just our luck to be caught in a downpour.”
“Maybe we can take refuge in the ark,” Penny laughed, leading the way up the meandering stream. “That is, if we can find it.”
Trees and bushes grew thick and green along either bank of the run. Several times the girls were forced to muddy their shoes in order to proceed. In one shady glade, a bullfrog blinked at them before making a hasty dive into the lilypads.
There was no sign of a boat or any structure remotely resembling an ark. And then, rounding a bend, they suddenly saw it silhouetted against a darkening sky.
“Why, it looks just as if it had rolled out of The Old Testament!” Louise cried in astonishment.
The ark, painted red and blue, rose three stories from the muddy water. A large, circular window had been built in the uppermost part, and there were tiny, square openings beneath. From within could be heard a strange medley of animal sounds—the cackling of hens, the squeal of a pig, the squawking of a saucy parrot who kept calling: “Noah! Oh, Noah!”
Louise gripped Penny’s hand. “Let’s not go any nearer,” she said uneasily. “It’s starting to rain, and we ought to make a double dash for home.”
A few drops of rain splashed into the stream. Dropping on the tin roof of the ark like tiny pellets of metal, they made a loud drumming sound. The disturbed hens began to cluck on their roosts. The parrot screeched loudly, “Oh, Noah! Come Noah!”
“Where is Noah?” Penny asked with a nervous giggle. “I certainly must see him before we leave.”
As if in answer to her question, they heard a strange series of sounds from deep within the woods. A cow mooed, and a man spoke soothing words. Soon there emerged from among the trees a bewildering assortment of animals and fowl—a cow, a goat, a pig, and two fat turkeys. An old man with a long white beard which fell to his chest, drove the creatures toward the gangplank of the ark.
“Get along, Bessie,” he urged the cow, tapping her with his crooked stick. “The Lord maketh the rain to fall for forty days and forty nights, but you shall be saved. Into the ark!”
Penny fairly hugged herself with delight.
“Oh, Louise, we can’t go now,” she whispered. “That must be Old Noah. And isn’t he a darling?”
Unaware that he was being observed, Old Noah again rapped the cow smartly on her flanks.
“Get along, Bessie,” he urged impatiently. “The Heavens will open any minute now, and all the creatures of the earth shall perish. But this calamity shall not befall you, Bessie. You are one of God’s chosen.”
None too willing to be saved from impending doom, Bessie bellowed a loud protest as she was driven into the over-crowded ark. Next went the goat and the squealing pig. The turkeys made more trouble, gobbling excitedly as the old man shooed them into the confines of the three-storied boat.
His task accomplished, Old Noah wiped his perspiring brow with a big red handkerchief. He stood for a moment, gazing anxiously up at the boiling storm clouds.
“This is it—the second great flood,” he murmured. “For the Lord sayeth, ‘I will cause it to rain forty days and forty nights and every living substance that I have made will I destroy from off the face of the earth.’”
As he stood thus, gazing at the sky, Noah made a striking figure. In his prime, the old man evidently had been a stalwart physical specimen, and advancing years had not enfeebled him. His face was that of a Prophet of old. A certain child-like simplicity shone from a pair of trusting blue eyes whose direct gaze bespoke implicit belief.
“Let’s speak to him,” Penny urged. Although Louise tried to hold back, she pulled her along toward the ark.
Old Noah heard the girls coming and turned quickly around. After the first moment of startled surprise, he leaned on his crooked stick and inquired with a kind smile:
“Why have you come, my daughters?”
“Well, we were curious to see this fine ark,” Penny replied. “We picked up one of your floating blue bottles with a message in it.”
“Blessed are they that heed the warnings of the Lord,” murmured Old Noah. “I, his servant, have prepared a place of refuge for all who come.”
By this time rain was falling steadily, and Louise huddled against a tree trunk for protection. “Penny, for Pete’s Sake—” she protested.
“Follow me, my daughters,” bade Old Noah, motioning for them to cross the gangplank into the ark. “Inside you will find food and shelter.”
“We could use a little shelter,” said Penny, glancing questioningly at her chum. “How about it, Lou? Shall we go inside and meet the animals?”
Louise hesitated, for in truth she was a bit afraid of the queer old man.
“Come, my daughters,” Noah bade again. “Have no fear. The Lord sayeth, ‘Noah, with thee will I establish my covenant, and thou shalt enter into the ark.’”
“We’ll drown if we stay outside,” laughed Penny, following boldly after the old man. “Come on, Louise.”
Unmindful of the falling rain, Noah stooped to pick up a bedraggled kitten from underfoot.
“It’s a very nice boat,” Penny remarked, dodging under the shelter of the roof. Louise huddled close beside her.
“A sturdy ark,” agreed Old Noah proudly. “Many, many months did I labor building it. The Lord said, ‘make thee an ark of gopher wood.’ But of gopher wood there was none to be had. Then the Lord came to me in a dream and said, ‘Noah, use anything you can find.’ So I gathered timbers from the beaches, and I wrecked an abandoned cottage I found in the woods. I felled trees. And I pitched the seams within and without as the Lord bade me.”
“What animals do you keep inside?” Penny inquired curiously.
“Well, mostly creatures that aren’t too exacting in their needs,” said Noah, perching the wet kitten on his shoulder. “The Lord sayeth two of every kind, male and female. But it wasn’t practical. Some of the animals were too big to keep aboard the ark.”
A disturbance from within the boat interrupted the old man’s explanation. “Excuse me, daughters, I’ve got to fasten Bessie in her stall,” he apologized. “If I keep her waitin’ she’s apt to kick the ark to pieces!”
Old Noah disappeared into the lower story of the boat. Peering in the open door, the girls saw row upon row of stalls and cages. There was a sty for the pigs, a pen for the goat, a little kennel for the dog, low roosts for the fowls. The walls of the room had been whitewashed and the floor was clean.
“What a life Old Noah must lead!” Louise whispered to Penny. “Why, it must be worse than being a zoo keeper!”
In a moment the old fellow reappeared. Beckoning to the girls, he led them up a little flight of stairs to the second floor of the ark.
“This is my bird room,” he said, opening a door.
“Hello, Noah!” croaked a brilliantly colored parrot, fluttering on her perch. “You old rascal! Polly wants a slug o’ rum!”
Noah glanced quickly at the girls. “I am humble and ashamed,” he apologized. “But the bird means no evil. I bought her of a sailor, who, I fear had wandered from the ways of righteousness.”
Placing a drink of water near the parrot, the old man directed attention to a cage containing a pair of doves.
“When the flood waters recede, I shall send these birds forth from a window of the ark,” he explained. “If they return with a branch of a bush or any green thing, then I shall know that the Lord no longer is angry.”
“How long do you imagine it will rain?” Louise asked absently, staring out the little round window.
“Forty days and forty nights,” answered Old Noah. Taking a bag of seed, he began to feed the chirping birds. “While your stay here may be somewhat confining, you will find my ark sturdy and snug.”
“Our stay here,” Louise echoed hollowly.
Penny gave her a little pinch and said to Old Noah, “We appreciate your hospitality and will be happy to remain until the rain slackens. But where are your living quarters?”
“On the third floor. First, before I conduct you there, I will throw out a few bottles. Although the fatal hour is near at hand, a number of persons may yet read my message and seek refuge in time to be saved.”
While the girls watched with deep interest, Old Noah moved to the porthole. Opening it, he tossed into the muddy waters a half dozen corked bottles which he selected from a basket beneath the window.
“Now,” he bade, turning again to Penny and Louise, “follow me and I will show you my humble quarters.”
By this time the girls scarcely knew what to expect, but the third floor of the ark proved rather a pleasant surprise. Old Noah had fitted it out with compartments, a tiny kitchen, living quarters, and a bedroom. The main room had a rug on the floor, there were several homemade chairs and a radio. Evidently, the master of the ark was musically inclined, for a shelf contained an accordion, a banjo and a mouth organ.
“Just sit down and make yourselves comfortable, daughters,” Old Noah invited, waving them toward chairs. “I’ll stir up a bite to eat.”
Entering the tiny kitchen, he poked about among the shelves. Watching rather anxiously, the girls next saw him open one of the portholes to test his fishing lines. Finding one taut, he pulled in a large catfish which he immediately began to dress.
“He intends to cook that for us,” Louise whispered. “I’ll not even taste it! Oh, let’s get away from here!”
Penny wandered to the window. The sky had grown much lighter, and trees which had been blotted out by the heavy rain, now were visible.
“The storm is almost over,” she said encouragingly. “Let’s step outside and see how things look.”
Noah, occupied with his culinary affairs, did not glance up as the girls quietly slipped away. Descending the steps to the main deck, they huddled close against a wall to keep dry. Rain still fell, but even as they watched it slackened.
“Let’s say goodbye to Noah and streak for home,” Louise suggested, eager to be off.
Before Penny could reply, both girls were startled to see a stranger emerge from among the bushes along the shore. He wore a raincoat, a broad-brimmed hat which dripped water, and a bright badge gleamed on his chest.
“I’m Sheriff Anderson,” he announced, coming close to the ark. “Is Dan Grebe aboard?”
“Do you mean Old Noah?” Penny asked doubtfully.
“Most folks call him that. An old man who’s lost his buttons, but harmless. He’s been maintaining a public nuisance here with his ark.”
As the sheriff started to come aboard, Old Noah himself stepped out on deck.
“So here you be again!” he shouted angrily, grasping the narrow railing of the gangplank. “Didn’t I warn you not to trespass on the property of the Lord?”