CHAPTER 16 GATHERING CLUES

The girls could hear no movement behind them as they darted down the path. They dared to hope that they had eluded the old gardener.

Then as they came within sight of the river, Louise stumbled over a vine. Although she stifled an outcry the dull thud of her body against the ground seemed actually to reverberate through the forest. A black crow on the lower limb of an oak tree cawed in protest before he flew away.

Penny pulled Louise to her feet and they went on as fast as they could, but they knew the sound had betrayed them. Now they could hear the man in pursuit, his heavy shoes pounding on the hard, dry path.

“Run!” Penny commanded.

They reached the river bank and looked about for the boat which would take them across. As they had feared it was on the opposite shore.

Penny gestured frantically, but the boy did not understand the need for haste. He picked up his oars and rowed toward them at a very deliberate pace.

“Oh, he’ll never get here in time,” Louise murmured fearfully. “Shall we hide?”

“That’s all we can do.”

They realized then that they had waited too long. Before they could dodge into the deeper thicket the gardener reached the clearing.

“So it’s you again!” he cried wrathfully, glaring at Penny.

“Please, we didn’t mean any harm. We can explain—”

“This stick is explanation enough for me!” the man shouted, waving it above his head. “You were trying to find out about the lily pool!”

“We were only trying to get a pin which I dropped into the water,” Louise said, backing a step away.

“I don’t believe you!” the man snapped. “You can’t fool me! I know why you came here, and you’ll pay for your folly! You’ll never take the secret away with you!”

With a swift, animal-like spring which belied his age, the gardener hurled himself toward the girls. He seized Penny’s arm giving it a cruel twist.

“You’re coming along with me,” he announced harshly.

“Let me go!” Penny cried, trying to free herself.

“You’re going with me to the house. You’ve been altogether too prying. Now you’ll take your punishment, both of you.”

The gardener might have managed Penny alone, but he was no match for two athletic girls. As he tried to seize Louise, Penny twisted free.

Quick as a flash, she grasped the man’s felt hat, jamming it down on his head over his eyes. While he was trying to pull it off, Louise also wriggled from his grasp.

The two girls ran to the water’s edge. Their boat had drawn close to shore. Without waiting for it to beach they waded out over their shoetops and climbed aboard.

“Don’t either of you ever come here again!” the gardener hurled after them. “If you do—”

The rest of the threat was carried away by the wind. However, Penny could not resist waving her hand and calling back: “Bye, bye, old timer! We’ll be seeing you!”

“What’s the matter with that man anyhow?” asked the boy who rowed the boat. “Didn’t he want you on the estate?”

“On the contrary, he invited us to remain and we declined,” grinned Penny. “Just temperament, that’s all. He can’t make up his mind which way he would like to have it.”

Allowing the boy to puzzle over the remark, she busied herself pouring water from her sodden shoes. The visit to the estate had not turned out at all as she had planned. She had failed to talk with Miss Kippenberg, and it was almost certain that from now on servants would keep a much closer watch for intruders.

The only vital information she had gleaned resulted from overhearing the conversation between Sylvia Kippenberg and the gardener.

“She talked with him as if they were well acquainted,” mused Penny. “Miss Kippenberg must have thought he knew more about Grant Atherwald’s disappearance than he would tell. And she seems to be afraid the Law will ask too many questions. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have suggested getting rid of the alligator.”

One additional observation Penny had made, but she decided not to speak of it until she and Louise were alone.

The boat reached shore and the two girls stepped out on the muddy bank.

“Will you need me again?” inquired the boy.

“I may,” said Penny, “and I can’t tell you exactly when. Where do you keep your boat?”

“Up the river just beyond that crooked maple tree. I hide it in the bushes and I keep the oars inside a hollow log close by. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”

Penny and Louise said goodbye to the lad and scrambled up the bank.

“I’m sure I’ll not be going back to that place,” the latter declared emphatically. “I just wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t broken away.”

“We might have been locked up in the stone tower,” Penny laughed. “Then another one of my theories would have proven itself.”

“Oh, you and your theories! You can’t make me believe that gardener didn’t mean to harm us. He was a very sinister character.”

“Sinister is a strong word, Lou. But I’ll agree he’s not any ordinary gardener. Either he’s been hired by the Kippenberg family for a very special purpose or else he’s gained their confidence and means to bend them to his own ends.”

“His own ends! Why, Penny, what do you mean? Have you learned something you haven’t told me?”

“Only this. I’m satisfied Old Peter is no gardener. He’s wearing a disguise.”

“Well, what won’t you think of next! You’ve been reading too many detective stories, Penny Parker.”

“Have I? Then there’s no need to tell you—”

“Yes, there is,” Louise cut in. “Your ideas are pretty imaginative, but I like to hear them anyway.”

“Considerate of you, old thing,” Penny drawled in her best imitation of an English accent. “You don’t deserve to be told after that crack, but I’ll do it anyhow. When I pulled the gardener’s hat down over his eyes, I felt something slip!”

“Maybe it was his skin peeling off.”

“He wore a wig,” Penny said soberly. “That’s why he looked so startled when I jerked the hat.”

“Did you actually see a wig?”

“No, but he must have had one on his head. I felt it give, I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that fellow. But if he isn’t a gardener, then who or what is he?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to do some intensive investigation.”

“Just how, may I ask?”

Penny gazed speculatively toward the drawbridge, noting that the old watchman had been deserted by the group of reporters. He sat alone, legs crossed, his camp stool propped against the side of the gearhouse.

“Let’s talk with him, Lou. He might be able to tell us something about the different employees of the estate.”

They walked over to where the old man sat, greeting him with their most pleasant smiles.

“Good morning,” said Penny.

The old man finished lighting his pipe before he deigned to notice them.

“Good morning,” repeated Penny.

“Mornin’,” said the watchman. He looked the two girls over appraisingly and added: “Ain’t you children a long ways off from your Ma’s?”

The remark both startled and offended Penny, but instantly she divined that the old fellow’s memory was short and his eyesight poor. He had failed to recognize her in everyday clothes.

“Oh, we’re just out for a hike,” she answered. “You see, we get tired of all the ordinary places, so we thought we would walk by here.”

“We’re interested in your bridge,” added Louise. “We just love bridges.”

“This one ain’t so good any more,” the old man said disparagingly.

“Doesn’t it get lonely here?” ventured Louise. “Sitting here all day long?”

“It did at first, Miss. But I got used to it. Anyway, it beats leanin’ on a shovel for the gov’ment. I got a little garden over yonder a ways. You ought to see my tomatoes. Them Ponderosas is as big as a plate.”

“Do you ever operate the bridge?” Louise inquired, for Penny had not told her that the structure was still in use.

“Oh, sure, Miss. That’s what I’m here for. But it ain’t safe for nothin’ heavier than a passenger car.”

“I’d love to see the bridge lowered.” Louise stared curiously up at the tall cantilevers which pointed skyward. “When will you do it next time, Mr.—?”

“Davis, if you please, Miss. Thorny Davis they calls me. My real name’s Thorndyke.”

The old man pulled a large, silver watch from his pocket and consulted it.

“In about ten minutes now, Mrs. Kippenberg will be comin’ back from town. Then we’ll make the old hinge bend down agin’.”

“Let’s wait,” said Louise.

Penny nodded and then as Thorny did not seem to object, she peeped into the gear house, the door of which stood half open. A maze of machinery met her eye—an electric motor and several long hand-levers.

Presently Thorny Davis listened intently. Penny thought he looked like an old fox who had picked up the distant baying of the pack.

“That’s her car a-comin’ now,” he said. “I can tell by the sound of the engine. Well, I reckon I might as well let ’er down.”

Thorny arose and knocked the ashes from his corn-cob pipe. He opened the door of the gear house and stepped inside.

“May I see how you do it?” asked Penny. “I always was interested in machinery.”

“The women will be runnin’ locomotives next,” Thorny complained whimsically. “All right, come on in.”

The old watchman pulled a lever on the starting rheostat of the motor which responded with a sudden jar and then a low purr. It increased its speed as he pushed the lever all the way over.

“Now the power’s on. The next thing is to drop ’er.”

Thorny grasped one of the long hand-levers and gently eased it forward. There was a grind of gears engaging and the bridge slowly crept down out of the sky.

Penny did not miss a single move. She noted just which levers the watchman pulled and in what order. When the platform of the bridge was on an even keel she saw him cut off the motor and throw all the gear back into its original position.

“Think you could do ’er by yourself now?” Thorny asked.

“Yes, I believe I could,” Penny answered gravely.

The old watchman smiled as he stepped to the deck of the bridge.

“It ain’t so easy as it looks,” he told her. “Well, here comes the Missuz now and we’re all ready for her. Last time she came along I was weedin’ out my corn patch and was she mad?”

As the black limousine rolled up to the drawbridge Penny turned her face away so that Mrs. Kippenberg would not recognize her. She need have had no uneasiness, for the lady gazed neither to the right nor the left. The car crept forward at a snail’s pace causing the steel structure to shiver and shake as if from an attack of ague.

“Dear me, I think this bridge is positively dangerous,” Louise declared. “I shouldn’t like to drive over it myself.”

As the old watchman again raised the cantilevers, Penny studied his every move.

“For a girl you’re sure mighty interested in machinery,” he remarked.

“Oh, I may grow up to be a bridgeman some day,” Penny said lightly. “I notice you keep the gear house locked part of the time.”

“I have to do it or folks would tamper with the machinery.”

The old man snapped a padlock on the door.

“Now I’m goin’ to mosey down to my garden and do a little hoein’,” he announced. “You girls better run along.”

Thus dismissed, Louise started away, but Penny made no move to leave. She intended to ask a few questions.

“Thorny, are you any relation to the Kippenberg’s head gardener?” she inquired with startling abruptness.

“Am I any relation to that old walrus?” Thorny fairly shouted. “Am I any relation to him? Say, you tryin’ to insult me?”

“Not at all, but I saw the man this morning, and I fancied I noticed a resemblance. Perhaps you don’t know the one I mean.”

“Sure, I know him all right.” Thorny spat contemptuously. “New man. He acts as know-it-all and bossy as if he owned the whole place.”

“Then you don’t like him?”

“There ain’t no one that has anything to do with him. He’s so good he can’t live like the rest of the servants. Where do you think I seen him the other night?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. Where?”

“He was at the Colonial Hotel, eatin’ in the main dining room!”

“The Colonial is quite an expensive hotel at Corbin, isn’t it?”

“Best there is. They soak you two bucks just to park your feet under one of their tables. Yep, if you ask me, Mrs. Kippenberg better ask that gardener of hers a few questions!”

Having delivered himself of this tirade, Thorny became calm again. He shifted his weight and said pointedly: “Well, I got to tend my garden. You girls better run along. Mrs. Kippenberg don’t want nobody hangin’ around the bridge.”

The girls obligingly took leave of him and walked away. But when they were some distance away, Penny glanced back over her shoulder. She saw Thorny down on his hands and knees in front of the gear house. He was slipping some object under the wide crack of the door.

“The key to the padlock!” she chuckled. “So that was why he wanted us to leave first. We’ll remember the hiding place, Lou, just in case we ever decide to use the drawbridge.”