Eager to learn what had been done to help Carl Oaks, Penny took an elevator to the news room of the Star. 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 the Star building 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 the Star office, 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!”
“It is rather 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!”