“Noah, we’ve been patient with you,” the sheriff replied wearily. “The last time I was here, you promised to clean up this dump and move your ark down stream. Now you’re going with me to talk to the judge.”
“Stand back! Stand back!” Old Noah shouted as the officer started across the gangplank. “Beware, or I’ll call the wrath of the Lord down on your head!”
The sheriff laughed and came on. With surprising strength and agility, Old Noah jerked the gangplank loose from the ark and hurled it into the water. Sheriff Anderson made a desperate lunge for an overhanging tree branch. Failing to seize it, he fell with a loud splash into the muddy river.
Old Noah slapped his thigh and cackled with glee as he watched Sheriff Anderson splash about in the muddy water.
“That’ll teach you!” he shouted jubilantly. “You meddlin’ son of evil! Next time maybe you will know enough to mind your own business and leave my ark alone!”
Penny and Louise stood ready to toss the sheriff a rope, but he did not need it. Clinging to the floating gangplank, the man awkwardly propelled himself to shore. As he tried to climb up the steep bank, his boots slipped and he fell flat on his face in the mud. Old Noah went off into another fit of laughter which fairly shook the ark at its mooring.
“Laugh, you old coot!” the sheriff muttered, picking himself up. “I’ve been mighty patient with you, but there’s a limit. Tomorrow I’m coming back here with a detail of deputies. I’ll run you and your ark out o’ here if it’s the last thing I do!”
“Be off with you!” ordered Noah arrogantly. “Beforemypatience is gone!”
“Okay, Noah, you win this round,” the sheriff muttered furiously. “I’m going, but I’ll be back. And if this ark isn’t cleaned up or out o’ here, we’ll put you away!”
A sorry figure with his clothing wet and muddy, the official stomped angrily off into the woods.
“I’m afraid you antagonized the wrong man that time, Noah,” Penny remarked as the footsteps died away. “What will you do when he returns?”
“That time will never come,” Old Noah replied, undisturbed. “Before the Lord will allow the ark to be taken from me, he will smite my enemies with lightning from the Heavens.”
Penny and Louise had their own opinion of what would happen to the ark and its animals, but wisely said nothing to further disturb the old fellow. By this time the rain had entirely ceased and a ray of sunshine straggled through the ragged clouds.
“Well, guess this isn’t to be the Great Flood after all,” Penny remarked, studying the sky. “We’re most grateful for the shelter of your ark, Noah. Now if we can just reach shore, we’ll be on our way.”
“Aren’t you staying for dinner?” the old man asked in disappointment. “I’m fryin’ up a nice catfish.”
“I’m afraid we can’t remain today,” Penny answered. “Another time perhaps.” Using a long, hooked pole, Old Noah retrieved the drifting gangplank and refastened it to the ark.
“Farewell, my daughters,” he said regretfully as he bade them goodbye. “You and your friends always will be welcome to take refuge in my ark. The Great Flood is coming soon, but you are among the chosen.”
Feeling decidedly exhilarated by their meeting with such a strange character, Louise and Penny followed the twisting stream to the main river channel. Water was rising rapidly along the banks and at many places, bushes and tree branches dipped low in the swirling eddies.
“You know, if these spring rains keep up, Noah may get his big flood after all,” Penny remarked. “Poor old fellow! He certainly sealed the fate of his ark when he pushed Sheriff Anderson into Bug Run.”
Turning homeward toward the Thompson Bridge, the girls soon approached the river bank where police had searched for the escaped saboteur. Curious to see the locality by daylight, they detoured slightly in order to pass it.
“This is the place,” Penny said, indicating ground which had been trampled by many feet. “At the rate the river rises, the shore here will be under by tomorrow.”
“I suppose police learned everything they could last night.”
“Yes, they went over the area rather thoroughly,” Penny nodded. “I know they took photographs and made measurements of the saboteur’s footprints. Lucky they did, because the water has washed them all away.”
“You still can see where the automobile was parked,” Louise declared, pointing to tire tracks in the soft earth. “Were any real clues found, Penny?”
“Jerry told me police picked up a handkerchief bearing the initial ‘O.’”
“That could stand for Ottman!”
“Likewise Oscar or Oliver or Oxenstiern,” Penny added, frowning. “I’ll admit though, it doesn’t look too bright for Sara’s brother.”
Having satisfied their curiosity regarding the locality, the girls started on toward the bridge. Before they had gone a dozen feet, Penny’s eye was caught by an object lying half-buried in the mud. She picked it up gingerly and dangling it in front of Louise was amazed to discover that it was a man’s leather billfold.
“Anything inside?” inquired Louise with interest.
Penny opened the flap and explored the various divisions of the money container. To her disappointment it held nothing save one small card upon which had been scribbled a few words.
“‘The Green Parrot—’” she read aloud. “‘Tuesday at 9:15.’ Now what does that mean?”
Beneath the notation appeared another: “The American Protective Society.”
“I guess it doesn’t mean much of anything,” commented Louise, digging at the mud which had collected on her shoes. “Probably an appointment card.”
“You don’t suppose this billfold was dropped by the saboteur?” Penny asked thoughtfully. “It’s very near the place where he crawled out of the river.”
“Wouldn’t the police have picked it up if they had considered it of any importance?”
“I doubt they ever saw it, Lou. The billfold was half buried in mud. I’d never have seen it myself if I hadn’t almost stepped on it.”
“Why not turn it over to the police?”
“Guess I will,” Penny decided, replacing the card in the billfold and wrapping them both in her handkerchief. “Did you ever hear of the American Protective Society, Lou?”
“Never did. Nor ‘The Green Parrot’ either—whatever that is.”
“I think The Green Parrot is a cafe or a night club with none too good a reputation,” Penny said thoughtfully. “I’m sure I’ve heard Dad say it’s a gambling place.”
Without further adventure, the girls resumed their trek and soon reached a bus line. Upon arriving home, Penny’s first act was to consult the telephone directory. She could find neither The Green Parrot nor the American Protective Society listed.
“Mrs. Weems, did you ever hear of a place called The Green Parrot?” she questioned the housekeeper.
“Isn’t that a restaurant the police closed down a few months ago?” replied Mrs. Weems. “Now why should you be bothering your head about The Green Parrot?”
Penny showed her the billfold and explained where she had found it.
“Dear me,” sighed the housekeeper. “How you can get into so many affairs of this kind is a wonder to me. I’m sure it worries your father too.”
“Not Dad,” laughed Penny. “Since I dug up that big story for him about the oldWishing Well, he’s been reconciled to my career of news gathering.”
“Wishing wells and saboteurs are two entirely different matters,” the housekeeper returned firmly. “I do hope you turn this billfold over to police and forget about suspicious characters.”
“I’m only worried about one,” rejoined Penny. “It bothers me because I involved Burt Ottman in such a mess. I’m not so sure he’s guilty.”
“And again, the police probably know exactly what they are about,” replied Mrs. Weems. “Now please take that billfold to the authorities and let them do the worrying.”
Thus urged, Penny carried the money container to the local police station. Unable to talk to any of the detectives connected with the dynamiting case, she left the billfold with a desk sergeant. As she turned to leave, after answering his many questions, she posed one of her own.
“Oh, by the way, did you ever hear of a place called The Green Parrot?”
“Sure,” the sergeant responded. “It’s a night club. Used to be located on Granger Street, but our boys made it too hot for ’em, so they moved to another place.”
“Where is it now?”
“Couldn’t tell you,” answered the sergeant. “You’ll have to talk to one of the detectives, Jim Adams or Bill Benson.”
Having no real excuse for seeking the information, Penny decided to abandon the quest. For want of an occupation, she sauntered on toward theStaroffice. Pausing in front of the big plate glass window, she idly watched a workman who was oiling one of the great rotary presses.
“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed a voice from behind her.
Whirling around, Penny saw that her father had just come through the revolving doors at the main entrance to the building.
“Hello, Dad,” she greeted him eagerly. “What’s new in the dynamiting case?”
“Nothing so far as I know,” he replied, rather indifferently. “Burt Ottman’s been released on bail.”
“Mr. DeWitt put up the money?”
“Yes, he did,” Mr. Parker said, frowning. “I advised him against it, but DeWitt feels a duty to the boy. Were you looking for me, Penny?”
“Well, not in particular.”
“I’m on my way to a bank meeting,” Mr. Parker said, turning away. “Oh, yes, I arranged a job for that watchman complication of yours, Carl Oaks.”
“You did? Oh, grand! What sort of work is it?”
“Can’t take time to tell you now,” Mr. Parker said hurriedly, hailing a passing taxi cab. “If you want all the details, ask Jerry Livingston. He took care of the matter for me, and can give you the information.”
Eager to learn what had been done to help Carl Oaks, Penny took an elevator to the news room of theStar. Jerry Livingston’s desk was deserted, so she paused at the slot of the big circular copy desk to ask Editor DeWitt if the reporter were anywhere in the building.
“I just sent him to cover a fire,” Mr. DeWitt replied, glancing up from copy he was correcting. “He ought to be back any minute. You know how Jerry covers a fire.”
“I certainly do. He rides the big engine to the scene, just whiffs at the smoke, and races back with a column report!”
Penny hesitated. She very much wished to say something to the editor about the dynamiting case, yet was reluctant to bring up the subject.
“Mr. DeWitt, I’m sorry about Burt Ottman,” she began awkwardly. “I hope you don’t think that I tried to throw suspicion on him by telling police——”
“Of course not,” he cut in. “It’s just a case of circumstantial evidence. Burt has a good lawyer now. I’m not a bit worried.”
The harassed expression of DeWitt’s face belied his words. He had always been known to fellow workers as a hard yet just man, but now it seemed to Penny that the veteran newspaperman was losing his grip. Though he fancied he disguised his feelings, it was plain to all that Burt Ottman’s arrest had shaken him.
“Guess I won’t wait for Jerry,” Penny said, turning away.
Leaving the newspaper office, she dropped in at Foster’s Drugstore to perch herself on a counter stool.
“I’ll take a deluxe dose of Hawaiian Delight with whipped cream,” she told the soda fountain clerk.
“No pineapple,” he said sadly. “And no whipped cream.”
“Then make it a double chocolate malted.”
“We’re out of chocolate. Sorry.”
“Just bring me an empty dish and let me look at it for awhile,” Penny grinned.
“How about a nice vanilla sundae with crushed walnuts?” the clerk coaxed.
“Oh, all right,” Penny gave in. “And don’t spare the walnuts!”
She ate the ice cream leisurely and had finished the last spoonful when a young man breezed into the drugstore. Recognizing Jerry Livingston, Penny signaled frantically. Without seeing her, he dodged into a telephone booth. He slammed out again in a moment and sat down at the counter.
“Cup o’ Java and make it strong,” he ordered carelessly.
“Sorry, sir, no coffee served without meals,” teased Penny from another stool. “How about a nice vanilla sundae with crushed walnuts?”
Jerry grinned as he saw her and moved over to an adjoining stool.
“Where was the fire?” she inquired curiously.
“At the Fulton Warehouse along the dock. It was deliberately set.”
“By saboteurs?”
“Looks that way. Workmen discovered the blaze in time to prevent the whole plant going up in smoke. Just got through telephoning the story to DeWitt.”
“Isn’t theStarbuilding across the street?”
“Sure, but that’s a long walk. Besides, I’m due at the airport for my flying lesson.”
“Your which?” inquired Penny alertly.
“I’m training to be an angel,” Jerry laughed. “I figure it like this. I can’t get along without my six cups o’ Java a day, so the only place for me is in Uncle Sam’s Air Corps.”
“How soon will you be leaving, Jerry?”
“Not until I’ve completed my local training. Oh, I’ll probably be grinding out news stories for quite some time yet.”
Penny drew a quick breath and changed the subject. One by one familiar faces were disappearing from theStaroffice, but somehow it gave her a special twinge to think that Jerry soon must go. In the pursuit of news they had shared many an adventure.
“Jerry,” she said abruptly, “Dad told me you were able to get Carl Oaks a job.”
“One of sorts. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s soft. Oaks is hired by the Riverview Coal Company to guard their barge that’s tied up at Dock 10.”
“Thanks a lot, Jerry, for going to so much trouble. Mr. Oaks ought to be quite grateful.”
“Not that fellow! He held out for more pay.”
“Are the duties hard?”
“Hard? All he has to do is stay aboard the barge and see that no one tries to make off with it.”
“I can’t imagine anyone trying to steal a coal barge,” laughed Penny.
“Oh, it’s done now and then,” Jerry rejoined carelessly. “These days they’ll even steal the hawsers off a boat.”
“What value would the rope have to a thief?”
“Hawsers are expensive,” the reporter explained. “Right now it’s almost impossible to get good grade hemp. A hawser of any size commands a big price second hand.”
“How do the thieves get the ropes, Jerry?”
“Oh, they wait for a dark or foggy night and then slip up to an unguarded boat and cut her loose.”
“Why, that’s a form of sabotage!” Penny cried indignantly.
“Sure, it is. The boats float free and unless they’re spotted, they’re likely to collide with other incoming vessels. Only last week an empty coal barge was cut loose. She crashed into an oil tanker and rammed a hole in her.”
“Then Carl Oaks really has an important job,” Penny said thoughtfully.
“Important in the sense that he’s got to keep his eyes open. But he’s not required to do any hard work. All he has to do is sit.”
“Then he should like the job,” Penny smiled, sliding down from the stool. “When does he start work?”
“He took over this morning.”
“Maybe I’ll ankle down to Dock 10 and talk to him.”
“Better wrap yourself in cellophane first,” Jerry advised. “That is, if you value your peaches and cream complexion.”
Penny was not certain what the reporter meant, but a little later, approaching the coal docks, she understood. Nearby was a private railroad yard and cars were being loaded from the many mountains of coal heaped on the ground. With the wind blowing toward the river, the dust laden air blackened her hands and clothing.
Penny stood for a moment watching a coal car race down from a steep switch-back, and then wandered along the docks in search of Mr. Oaks.
She came presently to the barge for which she searched. There was no sign of anyone aboard. A long ladder ascended from the dock to the vessel’s deck. Penny hesitated and then decided to climb it. When she was midway up, a man, his face blackened with coal, stepped from a shed.
“Hey, where you think you’re going?” he shouted sternly.
“I’m looking for Mr. Oaks,” Penny explained, hugging the ladder.
“Oaks? The new watchman?”
“Yes. He’s aboard, isn’t he?”
“He should be. Well, go on up, I guess, but it’s against regulations.”
Penny climbed the remaining rungs of the ladder and stepped out on the deck of the barge. She was chagrined to see that she had wiped up a great deal of coal dust.
“Oh, Mr. Oaks!” she called. “Are you here?”
From the tiny deck house the old man emerged. No smile brightened his smudged face as he recognized Penny.
“This is a swell job your father got me!” he greeted her.
“Why, Mr. Oaks, you don’t act as if you like it,” Penny replied, walking toward him. “What seems to be wrong?”
“The pay’s poor,” he said crossly. “I’m expected to stay on this rotten old tub twenty-four hours a day with only time off for my meals. It’s so dirty around here that if a fellow’d take a deep breath he’d get a hunk o’ coal stuck in his nose!”
“Itisrather unpleasant,” Penny admitted. “But then, the wind can’t always blow in this direction.”
“I want you to ask your father to find me another job,” the watchman went on. “I’d like one on a bridge again.”
“Well, I don’t know. After what happened—”
“And whose fault was it?” Mr. Oaks interrupted angrily. “I helped you and that girl friend of yours, didn’t I? Well, now it’s your turn to do me a little favor, ’specially since it wasn’t my fault I lost the bridge job.”
“I’ll talk to Dad,” Penny said. Annoyed by the watchman’s attitude, she did not prolong the interview, but quickly climbed down from the barge.
From the coal yards she followed the river for a distance, coming presently to more pleasant surroundings. She was still thinking about Carl Oaks as she approached the Ottman boathouse. Sara and a young man were deeply engrossed in examining a large metal object which appeared to be a homemade diving hood.
For a moment Penny assumed that Sara’s companion was Bill Evans. However, as the young man turned slightly, she saw his face.
“Why, it’s Burt Ottman!” she thought. “He’s back on his old job after being released from jail. I’m going to talk to him and see what he’ll say!”
Sara Ottman and her brother glanced up from their work as Penny approached the dock. Burt was a tall young man of twenty-six, brown of face, with muscles hardened by heavy, outdoor work. He nodded to Penny, but his expression did not disclose whether or not he bore resentment.
“Anything we can do for you?” he asked, his manner impersonal.
“No, I just happened to be over this way and thought I’d stop for a minute. What’s this strange contraption?” Penny indicated the queer looking metal hood.
“A diving apparatus Burt made,” Sara explained briefly. “We’re using it to get Bill Evans’ motor out of the river.”
“How does it work?”
“Watch and see,” invited Sara. “Burt’s going to make the first dive.”
Though Penny felt that she was none too welcome at the dock, she nevertheless decided to remain. Burt disappeared into the shed, reappearing a minute later in bathing trunks. He and Sara loaded the diving hood into a boat and rowed to the nearby area which had been marked with a can buoy.
Burt adjusted the metal helmet over his head and lowered himself into the water. Once her brother was beneath the surface, Sara worked tirelessly at the pump, feeding him air. Soon Bill Evans drifted by in another boat, watching the salvage operation like a worried mother.
“Think you’ll get ’er?” he asked Sara. “Doggone if I know how an engine could be so hard to find.”
Sara did not bother to answer, but kept pumping steadily.
After many minutes, the metal hood appeared on the surface. Burt Ottman lifted it from his head and took a deep breath.
“Any luck?” Bill asked anxiously.
“I’ll have the engine up in a little bit,” Burt replied. Breasting himself into the boat, he pulled on a rope tied around his waist. With Sara helping, he gradually hauled the lost motor from its muddy bed.
“Oh, say, that’s swell!” Bill cried jubilantly. “How can I thank you?”
“Don’t forget the five dollars,” Sara reminded him. “Burt and I can use it.”
“Oh, sure,” Bill replied, though the light faded from his eyes. “I haven’t got it on me right now. Can you wait a few days?”
“Waiting is the best thing we do,” Sara assured him. “Better get this mess of junk cleaned and oiled up right away or it won’t be worth a dime.”
“I will,” promised Bill. “Just dump ’er on the dock for me, will you?”
Sara and her brother delivered the motor to the designated place, and then rowed to their own platform where Penny waited. From the look of their faces it was evident that they never expected to be paid for their work.
Alighting from the boat, Sara noticed one of Old Noah’s floating bottles which had snagged against the edge of the platform. Rather irritably she fished it from the water. Without bothering to read the message inside, she hurled it high on the shore.
“Sara, you’re in an ugly mood today,” her brother observed, smiling.
“I get tired of seeing those bottles!” she replied. “I get tired of doing so much charity work too! How are we to meet our expenses, pay for a lawyer, and—”
“Never mind,” Burt interrupted quietly.
Sara subsided into silence. They moored the boat and Burt, carrying the diving bell with him, went into the shed.
“Guess you think I’m a regular old crab,” Sara remarked, turning toward Penny.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Penny answered. “I’m sure you have plenty to worry you.”
“I do! Since the papers published the bridge dynamiting story, our business has shrunk to almost nothing. Burt’s case is coming up for trial in about ten days. I don’t know how we’ll pay the lawyer. If Mr. DeWitt hadn’t put up bail, my brother still would be in jail.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t feel so discouraged,” Penny said cheerfully. “Burt will be cleared.”
“I wish I could think so. He’s innocent, but to prove it is another matter.”
“Can’t your brother provide an alibi? Where was he at the time of the dynamiting?”
“I don’t know,” Sara admitted, frowning. “Burt’s peculiar. I tried to talk things over with him, but he says it’s a disagreeable subject. He hasn’t told me where he was Friday night.”
Burt’s appearance in the doorway of the shed brought the conversation to an abrupt end. Before Penny could speak to him, a group of small boys ran along the bank some distance away.
“Saboteur! Saboteur!” they shouted jeeringly, pointing at Burt. One of the lads threw a clod of dirt which struck a moored rowboat.
“You see how it is!” Sara cried wrathfully.
“Don’t take things so seriously,” Burt advised, though his own eyes burned with an angry light. “They’re only youngsters.”
“I can’t stand much more,” Sara cried, running into the shed, and closing the door.
Burt busied himself cleaning the clod of dirt from the rowboat. “Don’t mind Sara,” he said. “She’s always inclined to be high strung.”
“I’m sorry about everything,” said Penny quietly. “Mr. DeWitt believes you will be cleared.”
Burt straightened, staring at the far shore. “Wish I felt the same way. Unless the real saboteur is caught, the police intend to tag me with the job.”
“They can’t convict you without evidence. Oh, by the way, did you ever lose a leather billfold?”
The question surprised Burt. He hesitated before he answered: “What made you ask me that?”
“I found an old one along the river. No money or any identification in it. Just a card which said: ‘The Green Parrot. Tuesday at 9:15.’”
“The Green Parrot!”
“You’ve heard of the place?”
“Oh, I’ve heard of it,” Burt answered carelessly. “That’s all. I never was there. Sorry I can’t claim the billfold.”
As if uneasy lest he be questioned further, the young man picked up a coil of rope and walked away. Penny waited a moment and then left the dock.
“I’m just a nuisance around there,” she thought unhappily. “I’d like to help, but Sara and Burt won’t let me.”
The following two days passed without event so far as Penny was concerned. There were no developments regarding the bridge dynamiting case and the story was relegated to an inside page of the Star. However, recalling her promise to Carl Oaks, she did speak to her father about finding him a new job.
“What does that fellow expect?” Mr. Parker rumbled irritably. “Jerry tells me he’s a ne’er-do-well. Why doesn’t he like his job as watchman on the coal barge?”
“Well, it’s too dirty.”
“Carl Oaks is lucky to get any job in this town,” Mr. Parker answered. “Jerry had a hard time inducing anyone to take him on. Along the waterfront he has a reputation for shiftlessness.”
“In that case, just forget it, Dad. I don’t like the man too well myself.”
Penny promptly forgot about Carl Oaks, but many times she caught herself wondering what had happened to Old Noah and his ark. Since she and Louise had visited the place, it had rained every day. The water was slowly rising in the river and there was talk that a serious flood might result.
On Tuesday night, as Penny and Louise paid their weekly visit to the Rialto Theatre, it was still raining. The gutters were deep with water and to cross the street it was necessary to walk stiffly on their heels.
“We’ve had enough H2O for one week,” Penny declared, gazing at her splashed stockings. “Well, for screaming out loud!”
A green taxicab, turning in the street to pick up a fare, shot a fountain of muddy water from its spinning wheels. Penny, who stood close to the curb, was sprayed from head to foot.
“Just look at me!” she wailed. “That driver ought to be sent to prison for life!”
The taxi drew up in front of the Rialto Theatre. A well-dressed man in brown overcoat and felt hat who waited at the curb, opened the cab door.
“To the Green Parrot,” he ordered the driver.
“Where’s that, sir?”
The passenger mumbled an address the girls could not understand. He then slammed shut the cab door and the vehicle drove away.
“Lou, did you hear what I heard?” Penny cried excitedly.
“I certainly did!”
Penny glanced quickly about. Seeing another taxicab across the street, she hailed it.
“Come on, Louise,” she urged, tugging at her chum’s hand.
Louise held back. “What do you intend to do?”
“Why, we’re going to follow that taxi!” Penny splashed through the flooded gutter toward the waiting cab. “This is a real break for us! With luck we’ll learn the location of The Green Parrot!”
“Keep that green taxi in sight!” Penny instructed her own cab driver as she and Louise leaped into the rear seat.
“Sure,” agreed the taxi man, showing no surprise at the request.
Thrilled, and feeling rather theatrical, Penny and Louise sat on the edge of their seats. Anxiously they watched the green cab ahead. Weaving in and out of downtown traffic, it cruised at a slow speed and so, was not hard to follow.
Louise gazed at the running tape of the taxi meter. “Do you see that ticker?” she whispered. “I hope you’re well fortified with spare change.”
“I haven’t much money with me. Let’s trust that The Green Parrot is somewhere close.”
“More than likely it’s miles out in the country,” Louise returned pessimistically.
The green cab presently turned down a narrow, little-traveled street not many blocks from the river front. As it halted at the curb, Penny’s driver glanced at her for instructions.
“Don’t stop,” she directed. “Drive on past and pull up around the corner.”
The taxi man did as requested, presenting a bill for one dollar and eighty cents. To pay the sum, Penny used all of her own money and borrowed a quarter from her chum.
“That leaves me with just thirty-eight cents,” Louise said ruefully. “No picture show tonight. And how are we to get home?”
“We’re not far from a bus line. Come on, we’re wasting valuable time.”
“Those two words, ‘Come on’ have involved me in more trouble than all the rest of the English language,” Louise giggled nervously. “What are we to do now we’re here?”
Penny did not answer. Rounding the corner, she saw that the green cab and its passenger had disappeared. For an instant she was bitterly disappointed. Then she noticed a creaking sign which swung above a basement entrance. Although inconspicuous, it bore the picture of a green parrot.
“That’s the place, Lou!” she exclaimed.
“Well, we’ve learned the address, so let’s go home.”
“Wonder what it’s like inside?”
“Don’t you dare start that old curiosity of yours to percolating!” Louise chided severely. “We’renotgoing in there!”
“Who ever thought of such a thing?” grinned Penny. “Now I wonder what time it is?”
“About eight-thirty or perhaps a little later. Why?”
“Do you remember that card we found in the leather billfold? The notation read, ‘The Green Parrot, Tuesday at 9:15.’”
“So it did, but the appointment may have been for nine fifteen in the morning.”
“You dope!” laughed Penny. “Louise, we’re in wonderful luck finding this place at just this hour! Why, the man we followed here may be the one who lost the billfold.”
“All of which makes him a saboteur, I suppose?”
“Not necessarily, but don’t you think we ought to try to learn more?”
“I knew you’d try to get me into that place,” Louise complained. “Well, I have more sense than to do it. It might not be safe.”
“I shouldn’t think of venturing in unescorted,” Penny assured her. “Why not telephone my father and ask him to come here right away?”
“Well, that might not be such a bad idea,” Louise acknowledged reluctantly. “But where can we find a phone?”
Passing The Green Parrot, the girls walked on a few doors until they came to a corner drugstore. Going inside, they closed themselves into a telephone booth. Borrowing a nickel from Louise, Penny called her home, but there was no response.
“Mrs. Weems went to a meeting tonight, and I suppose Dad must be away,” she commented anxiously.
“Then let’s give it up.”
“I’ll try the newspaper office,” Penny decided. “If Dad isn’t there, I’ll talk to one of the reporters.”
Mr. Parker was not to be contacted at theStarplant, nor was Editor DeWitt available. Penny asked to speak to Jerry Livingston and presently heard his voice at the other end of the wire. Without wasting words she told him where she was and what she wanted him to do.
“The Green Parrot!” Jerry exclaimed, copying down the address she gave him. “Say, that’s worthwhile information. I’ll be with you girls as soon as I can get there.”
“We’ll be outside the corner drugstore,” Penny told him. “You’ll know us by the way we pace back and forth!”
Within twelve minutes a cab pulled up and Jerry leaped out to greet the two girls.
“Where is this Parrot place?” he demanded, gazing curiously at the dingy buildings.
Louise and Penny led him down the street to the basement entrance. Music could be heard from within, but blinds covered all the windows.
“It must be a cafe,” commented Jerry. He turned toward Penny and stared. “Say, what’s the matter with your face?”
“My face?”
“You look as if you’re coming down with the black measles!”
“Oh, a taxi splashed me with mud,” Penny laughed, sponging at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “How do I look now?”
“Better. Let’s go.”
Taking the girls each by an elbow, Jerry guided them down the stone steps. Confronted with a curving door, he boldly thrust it open.
“Now act as if you belonged here,” he warned the girls.
The trio found themselves in a carpeted, luxuriously furnished foyer. From a large dining room nearby came laughter and music.
As the outside door closed behind the young people, a bell tinkled to announce their arrival. Almost at once a head waiter appeared in the archway to the left. He was tall and dark, with a noticeable scar across one cheek. His shrewd eyes scrutinized them, but he bowed politely enough.
“A party of three, sir?”
“Right,” agreed Jerry.
They followed the waiter into a dimly lighted dining room with more tables than customers. A four-piece orchestra provided rather dreary music for dancing. Jerry reluctantly allowed a checkroom girl to capture his hat.
The head waiter turned the party over to another waiter.
“Table thirteen,” he instructed, and spoke rapidly in French.
“Table thirteen,” complained Jerry. “Can’t you give us something besides that?”
“Monsieur is superstitious?” The head waiter smiled in a superior way.
“Not superstitious, just cautious.”
“As you wish, Monsieur. Table two.”
Jerry and the girls were guided to the far end of the room, somewhat apart from the other diners. A large potted palm obstructed their view.
“I think they’ve hung the Indian sign on us,” Jerry muttered after the waiter had gone. “See anyone you know, Penny?”
“That man over by the door—the one sitting alone,” she indicated in a whisper. “Louise and I followed him here.”
“The one that’s wrestling with the lobster?”
“Yes, don’t stare at him, Jerry. He’s watching us.”
The waiter arrived with glasses of water and menu cards. Jerry and the girls scanned the list in secret consternation. Scarcely an item was priced at less than a dollar, and even a modest meal would cost a large sum.
“I’m not very hungry,” Louise said helpfully. “I’ll take a ham sandwich.”
“So will I,” added Penny.
“Three hams with plenty of mustard,” ordered Jerry breezily.
The waiter gave him a long glance. “And your drink, sir?”
“Water,” said Jerry. “Cool, refreshing water, preferably with a small piece of ice.”
The waiter favored the trio with another unflattering look and went to the kitchen.
“This is a gyp place,” Penny declared indignantly. “I can’t understand why anyone would come here. The waiters all seem to be French.”
“Oh, all head waiters speak French,” Jerry replied. “You can’t tell by that. I’d say they were German myself.”
Penny studied the cafe employees with new interest. She noted that the head waiter kept an alert eye upon the entire room, but particularly he watched their table.
Soon the three orders of ham sandwiches were brought by the waiter. The young people ate as slowly as they could so they would have an excuse for remaining as long as they desired.
“What time is it, Jerry?” Penny asked anxiously.
“Ten after nine,” he answered, looking at his watch.
A bell jingled, and the young people knew that another customer had arrived. Craning their necks to see around the palm tree, they watched the dining room entranceway. In a moment a young man entered and was greeted by the head waiter. Jerry and the girls stared, scarcely believing their eyes.
“Why, it’s Burt Ottman!” Penny whispered.
“And exactly on the dot of nine-fifteen,” added Louise significantly. “Hemustbe the person who lost that billfold!”