CHAPTER 19 A DARING RESCUE

Those in the motor boat who had witnessed the disaster were too horrified to speak. They could see the top of the car rising above the water into which it had fallen, but there was no sign of the unfortunate driver or other possible occupants.

Penny began to kick off her shoes.

“No!” shouted her father, divining her purpose. “No! It’s too dangerous!”

Penny did not heed for she knew that if the persons in the car were to be saved it must be by her efforts. Her father could not swim well and Harry Griffith was needed at the wheel of the motor boat.

Scrambling to the gunwale, the girl dived into the water. She could see nothing. Groping her way to the overturned coupe, she grasped a door handle and turned it. All her strength was required to pull the door open. Her breath was growing short now. She worked faster, with frantic haste.

A hand clutched her own. Before she could protect herself she felt the man upon her, clawing, fighting, trying to climb her shoulders, upward to the blessed air.

His grasp was loose. Penny ducked out of it but held fast to his hand. She braced her feet against the body of the car and pushed. They both shot upward to the surface.

Griffith and her father lifted the man out of the water into the motor boat.

“Have to go down again,” Penny gasped. “There may be others.”

She dived once more, doubling herself into a tight ball, and giving a quick, upthrust of her feet which sent her straight to the bottom. She swam into the car and groped about on the seat and floor. Finding no bodies, she quickly shot to the surface again. Her father pulled her over the side, saying curtly: “Good work, Penny.”

The victim she had saved seemed little the worse for his ducking. With Griffith’s help he had divested himself of his heavy coat and was wringing it out.

Penny had obtained no clear view of the man, nor did she ever, for just at that moment, Jerry raised himself to a sitting position. He stared at the bedraggled one and pointed an accusing finger.

“That’s the fellow!” he cried in an excited voice. “The one I was telling you about—”

The man took one look at Jerry and gazed quickly about. By this time the motor boat had drifted close to shore. Before anyone could make a move to stop him, the man hurled himself overboard. He landed on his feet in shallow water. Splashing through to the shore, he scuttled up the steep bank and disappeared in the darkness.

“Don’t let him get away!” shouted Jerry. “He’s the same fellow I saw in the woods!”

“You’re certain?” asked Mr. Parker doubtfully.

“Of course! If you think I’m out of my head now, you’re the one who’s crazy! It’s the same fellow! Oh, if I could get out of this boat!”

Griffith brought the craft to shore. “I’ll see if I can overtake him,” he said, “but he’s probably deep in the woods by this time.”

The boatman was a heavy-set man, slow on his feet. Penny and her father were not surprised when he came back twenty minutes later to report he had been unable to pick up the trail.

“The overturned car may offer a clue to his identity,” Mr. Parker said, as they started up the river once more. “The police will be able to check the license plates.”

“I wonder what the man was doing at the estate?” Penny mused.

She groped her way toward the cabin, thinking that she would divest herself of some of her wet garments. Suddenly she stopped short.

“Dad, that fellow took off his coat!” she exclaimed. “He must have left it behind!”

“It’s somewhere on the floor,” Harry Griffith called to her.

Penny found the sodden garment lying almost at her feet. She straightened it out and searched the pockets. Her father moved over to her side.

“Any clues?” he asked.

Penny took out a water-soaked handkerchief, a key ring and a plain white envelope.

“That may be something!” exclaimed Mr. Parker. “Handle it carefully so it doesn’t tear.”

They carried the articles into the cabin. Mr. Parker turned on the light and took the envelope from his daughter’s hand. They were both elated to see that another paper was contained inside.

Mr. Parker tore off the envelope and flattened the letter on the table beneath the light. The ink had blurred but nearly all of the words could still be made out. There was no heading, merely the initials: “J. J. K.”

“Could that mean James Kippenberg?” Penny asked.

The message was brief. Mr. Parker read it aloud.

“Better come through or your fate will be the same as Atherwald’s. We give you twenty-four hours to think it over.”

“How strange!” Penny exclaimed. “That man I pulled out of the water couldn’t have been James Kippenberg!”

“Not likely, Penny. My guess would be that he had been sent here to deliver this warning note. Being unfamiliar with the road, and not knowing about the dangerous drawbridge, he crashed through.”

“But James Kippenberg isn’t supposed to be at the estate,” Penny argued. “It doesn’t make sense at all.”

“This much is clear, Penny. Jerry saw the man talking with the two seamen, and they all appear to be mixed up in Grant Atherwald’s disappearance. We’ll print what we’ve learned, and let the police figure out the rest.”

“Dad, this story is developing into something big, isn’t it?”

He nodded as he moved a swinging light bulb slowly over the paper, hastening the drying process.

“After the next issue of the Star is printed, every paper in the state will send their men here. But we’re out ahead, and when the big break comes, we may get that first, too.”

“Oh, Dad, if only we can!”

“Count yourself out of the case from now on, young lady,” he said severely. “You scared the wits out of me tonight, risking your life to save that no-good. Now shed those wet clothes before you come down with pneumonia.”

He tossed her an overcoat, a sweater and a crumpled pair of slacks which Griffith had found under one of the boat seats. Leaving the cabin, he closed the door behind him.

Penny did not change her clothes at once. Instead, she sat down at the table, studying the warning message.

“‘Better come through,’” she read aloud. “Does that mean Kippenberg is supposed to pay money? And what fate did Atherwald meet?”