Upon hearing the shrill notes of the air raid siren, the man whom Penny and Louise followed, quickened his step. Hastening after him, the girls turned a corner and came face to face with an air raid warden.
“Take shelter!” he ordered sternly. “The closest one is across the street—the basement of the Congregational Church.”
Penny started to explain, but the warden had no time to listen. Waving the girls across the street, he watched to see that they actually entered the shelter.
“I guess he thought we weren’t very cooperative,” Louise remarked as they followed a throng of persons downstairs to the basement. “These blackout tests really are very important.”
“Of course,” agreed Penny. “It’s a pity though that our friend, the waiter, couldn’t have been sent into this same shelter. Now we’ll lose him.”
For nearly twenty minutes the girls remained in the basement until the All Clear sounded. As they returned to the street level, lights were going on again, one by one. Pedestrians began to pour out of the shelters, but the girls saw no one who resembled the waiter.
“We’ve lost him,” sighed Penny. “I guess we may as well go home.”
“Let’s hurry,” urged Louise who was glad to abandon the pursuit. “Mother will be worried about me.”
At the Sidell home, Penny turned down an invitation to come in for a few minutes. As she started on alone, she paused and called to her chum who was on the porch: “Oh, Lou, how about a sail early tomorrow morning?”
“Isn’t the river too high?”
“It was dropping fast this morning. The current’s not so strong now either. Let’s get up bright and early.”
“How early?” Louise asked dubiously.
“Oh, about seven o’clock.”
“That’s practically the middle of the night,” Louise complained.
“I’ll come by for you at a quarter to seven,” Penny said, as if the matter were settled. “Wear warm clothes and don’t you dare keep me waiting.”
The next morning heavy mists shrouded Riverview’s valleys and waterfront. Undaunted by the dismal prospect, Penny proceeded in darkness to the Sidell home. There, huddling against the gate post, she whistled several times, and finally tossed a pebble against the window of Louise’s room. A moment later the sash went up.
“Oh, is it you, Penny?” her chum mumbled in a sleepy voice. “You surely don’t expect to go sailing on a morning like this!”
“The fog will clear away just as soon as the sun gets up. Hurry and climb into your clothes, lazy bones!”
With a groan, Louise slammed down the window. Ten minutes later she appeared, walking awkwardly because she wore two pair of slack suits and three sweaters.
“Think we’ll freeze?” she inquired anxiously.
“You won’t,” laughed Penny, giving her a thermos bottle to carry.
By the time the girls reached the dock, the rising sun had begun to scatter the mist. Patches of fog still hung over portions of the river however, and it was impossible to see the far shore.
“Shouldn’t we wait another hour?” Louise suggested as Penny leaped aboard the dinghy.
“Oh, by the time we get the sail up the river will be clear,” she responded carelessly. “Toss me the life preserver cushions.”
While Penny put up the mainsail, Louise wiped the seats dry of dew. Her fingers stiff with cold, she cast off the mooring ropes, and the boat drifted away from the dock.
“Well, the river is all ours this morning,” Penny remarked, watching the limp sail. “That’s the way I like it.”
“Where’s the breeze?” demanded Louise suspiciously.
“We’ll get one in a minute. The headland is cutting it off.”
“You’re a chronic optimist!” accused Louise. Wetting a finger, she held it up. “I don’t believe there is any breeze! We’ll just drift down stream and then have to row back!”
“We’re getting a little now,” said Penny as the sail became taut. “Hold your fire, dear chum.”
The boat gradually picked up speed, but the breeze was so unsteady that the girls did not attempt to cross the river. Instead, they sailed in midstream, proceeding toward the commercial docks. The mists did not entirely clear away and Penny began to shiver.
“Don’t you wish you had one of my sweaters?” asked Louise, grinning.
Penny shook her head as she reached to pour herself a cup of steaming coffee from the thermos bottle. Before she could drink it, a large, flat vessel loomed up through the mist ahead.
“Now don’t try to argue the right of way with that boat,” Louise advised uneasily.
“Why, it’s a barge!” Penny exclaimed, bringing the dinghy about. “I do believe it’s adrift!”
“What makes you think so?” Louise asked, staring at the dark hulk.
Penny maneuvered the dinghy closer before she replied. “You can see it’s out of control. There’s no tow boat anywhere near.”
“It does seem to be drifting,” Louise acknowledged. “No one appears to be aboard either.”
Realizing that the large vessel would block off all the wind if she approached too close to it, Penny kept the dinghy away. The barge, almost crosswise to the current, was floating slowly downstream.
“How do you suppose it got loose?” Louise speculated.
“Saboteurs may have cut the hawser.”
“The big mooring rope has been severed!” Louise exclaimed a moment later. “I can see the frayed end!”
Penny came about again, tacking in closer to the drifting vessel.
“That certainly looks like the barge Carl Oaks was hired to guard,” she declared with a worried frown. “Can you read the numbers, Lou?”
“519-9870.”
“Then it is his barge!”
“He must have deserted his post again.”
“In any case that barge is a great hazard to other vessels,” Penny declared, deeply troubled. “Not even a signal light on the bow or stern!”
“Oughtn’t we to notify the Coast Guards?”
“We should, but while we’re reaching a telephone, the barge may ram another boat. Why not board her and put up signal lights first? In this fog one can’t see a vessel many yards ahead.”
“It doesn’t look possible to climb aboard.”
“I think I can do it,” Penny said, offering the tiller to her chum. “Here, take the stick.”
“You know what happens when I try to steer,” Louise replied, shrinking back. “I’ll be sure to upset. The wind always is tricky around a big boat.”
“Then I’ll take down the sail,” Penny decided, moving forward to release the halyard.
The billowing canvas came sliding down. Penny broke out the oars, and maneuvered the dinghy until it grated against the hull of the barge.
“Even a trained monkey couldn’t get up there,” Louise declared, staring at the high deck.
Penny rowed around to the other side of the barge. Discovering a rope which did not give to her weight, she announced that she intended to climb it.
“You’ll fall,” Louise predicted.
“Why, I’m the champion rope climber of Riverview High!” Penny chuckled, thrusting the oars into her chum’s unwilling hands. “Just hold the dinghy here until I get back.”
“Which shouldn’t be long,” Louise said gloomily. “I expect to hear your splash any minute now.”
Penny grasped the dangling rope. With far more ease than she had anticipated, she climbed hand over hand to the deck of the barge. Once there she lost not a moment in lighting signal lamps at bow and stern. The task accomplished, she was moving amidships when she thought she heard a slight sound from within the deck house. Pausing to listen, she called:
“Is anyone here?”
There was no answer, but distinctly she heard a scraping noise, as if someone were pushing a chair against a wall.
“Someone is in there!” Penny thought.
Darting across the deck, she tried the door of the cabin. It had been fastened from the outside. Fumbling with the bolt, she finally was able to push it back. The door swung outward.
For a moment Penny could discern no one in the dark, little room. Then she saw a man lying on the floor. A gag covered his mouth and his hands and feet were tied with cord.
The prisoner was Carl Oaks.