Failing easily to retrieve the message in the bottle, Jard Wessler smashed it against a wall of the ark. Picking up the folded paper, he flashed his light across the writing.
“‘The hour of the Great Deluge approaches,’” he read aloud. “‘Come to my ark and I will provide shelter and comfort.’”
Penny and Louise relaxed. The message was one that Old Noah had written. Unless Wessler opened another bottle he would not suspect that they were the authors of other messages pleading for help.
“Stand back and allow me to throw my bottles into the stream!” Old Noah cried angrily. “Even though you are a guest aboard my ark, your actions are not pleasing.”
“Go ahead, Grandpa,” Wessler said with a shrug. “Heave out your bottles if it will keep you happy.”
As Old Noah began to toss the bottles out of the porthole, Wessler again ordered Penny and Louise from the cabin.
“Upstairs!” he said, giving them a shove toward the stairway.
Penny glanced quickly toward shore. The gangplank had been raised, but the distance was not great.
As if reading her mind, Wessler said: “I wouldn’t try to make a leap for it if I were you, little lady. Behave yourself, and you’ll be set free before morning.”
Penny and Louise were forced to go upstairs to the third floor of the ark. Although Old Noah’s living quarters were more comfortable than the bird room, they provided less privacy. Wessler and his companion remained on the floor, and not a word could the girls speak without being overheard.
Old Noah soon appeared. In a much better mood, he chatted with the two men. Finding them uncommunicative, he picked up his banjo and began to sing spirituals to its accompaniment. His voice, as cracked as the fingers which strummed the strings, drove Breneham into a near frenzy.
“There’s a limit to what a guy can stand,” he said meaningly to Wessler.
“It won’t be much longer now,” the other encouraged, glancing at his watch.
“Why can’t we pull the job now and get out?”
“Because the car won’t be waiting for us. Everything’s got to move on schedule.”
As the night wore on, a light rain began to fall. Wessler and his companion went frequently to the windows, seemingly well pleased by the change of weather.
The ordeal of waiting was a cruel one for Louise and Penny. Although they knew that Old Noah had tossed their messages into the water, they held scant hope that any of the bottles would be found that night. While searching parties might continue to seek them, it was unlikely that they would be released in time to prevent the destruction of the Seventh Street Bridge.
Another hour elapsed. Wessler looked at his watch and spoke to his companion.
“Well, I’m shoving off! When you hear the explosion, lock ’em up in the bird room, and make for the shack. The car will pick you up.”
“Good luck, Jard,” Breneham responded.
Wessler went out the door, closing it behind him. The girls heard him lower the gangplank into place, and then his footsteps died away.
Penny gazed at Louise in despair. They both knew that Jard Wessler had gone to dynamite the Seventh Street Bridge. Although they were not certain of the plan, they believed that he intended to use Sara Ottman’s boat which doubtlessly would be loaded with explosives.
Breneham began to pace the floor nervously. Suddenly he halted by a porthole, listening. The girls too strained to hear.
“Someone’s out there in the trees!” Breneham muttered. “This ark is being watched! Noah, stick your head out the window and ask who it is! And no tricks!”
Old Noah did as ordered.
“Hello, the ark!” shouted a voice which Penny thought belonged to Jerry Livingston. “Are you alone there, Noah?”
“Tell him yes,” prodded the saboteur. “Say that you are just going to bed.”
“But my son, that would be a base falsehood,” Noah argued. “I have no intention of retiring—”
Penny, quick to divine that Breneham’s attention was diverted, rushed to another window. In a shrill voice she screamed for help.
Breneham sprang toward Penny, intending to fell her with a blow. Louise began to shout. Realizing that he had been betrayed, Breneham jerked open the door and leaped from the high deck into the stream.
“Get him! Get him!” shouted Penny to the group of men on shore.
Breneham swam a few feet and then waded toward the far side of the stream.
“Oh, he’s going to get away!” Louise murmured, watching anxiously from a porthole.
As the saboteur scrambled up the bank, two men rose from their hiding places in the tall bushes and grasped him by the arms.
“It’s Dad!” cried Penny gleefully. “And your father too, Louise!”
Thrilled by the manner in which their release had been accomplished, the girls ran out of the cabin. Crossing the gangplank, they saw that the rescue party was comprised of Mr. Parker, Mr. Sidell, Jerry Livingston, several men who were strangers, and Sara Ottman.
“I found your message in the bottle!” she greeted the girls excitedly.
“Not really?” demanded Penny.
“I was in the little cove just below here, guarding my boat,” explained Sara. “I intended to get back earlier to relieve you girls, but I was detained at the police station. Anyway, while I waited at the bend, wondering what to do, a swarm of corked bottles came floating downstream.”
“Old Noah threw out a box full of them,” chuckled Louise. “So you read our message, asking for help, Sara?”
The older girl nodded. “Yes, one of the bottles drifted ashore. Usually I don’t bother to read the message, but this time I did.”
“How were you able to bring help here so quickly?” asked Penny.
“Actually I didn’t. Although I didn’t realize it until a few minutes ago, your parents have been dreadfully worried about you girls. When Bill Evans telephoned them, they came here to search.”
“I know,” nodded Penny. “Dad was here earlier in the evening. The saboteurs tricked him into leaving.”
“I didn’t see him at the time,” Sara resumed her explanation. “Penny, your father returned home, but when he learned you were not there, he organized a searching party. Just as the men reached Bug Run once more, I found your message. I gave it to Mr. Parker and—well, you know the rest.”
“Did you capture Jard Wessler?” Penny demanded tensely. “That’s the important thing!”
“Wessler? You mean the man who stole my motorboat?”
“Yes, he went away from the ark about five minutes ago. I’m sure he intended to use the hidden boat, Sara! You left it well guarded, I hope.”
“There’s no one watching it now.”
“Then we’ve got to move fast!” Penny cried, looking anxiously about for her father. “Jard Wessler plans to destroy the Seventh Street Bridge! He’s probably close by now, waiting for a chance to make his get-away!”
The three girls ran to meet Mr. Parker who at that moment had crossed the stream with the prisoner. Just then the engine of a motorboat was heard to sputter. Sara stopped short, listening. Unmistakably, the sound came from around the bend.
“That’s my boat!” Sara cried.
“Jard Wessler is getting away!” Penny added. “We must stop him!”
Leaving others to guard the prisoner, Mr. Parker and Jerry ran toward the mouth of Bug Run. Not to be left behind, Penny, Sara, and Louise, followed as fast as they could. By the time they reached the river, Wessler’s boat had disappeared. However, the popping of its engine could be heard far out on the water.
“We’ll never overtake him now,” Sara said despairingly. “That boat is a fast one.”
A slower craft, one the girl had used earlier in the evening to cross the river, was beached nearby. Even though pursuit seemed useless, the men launched it. Overloaded with five passengers, the boat made slow progress against the current.
“We haven’t a chance to overtake that fellow,” Sara repeated again.
“If only we could notify Coast Guards!” Penny murmured hopelessly. “Their station is up river. They still might be able to intercept Wessler before he reaches the bridge.”
“No way to contact them,” Mr. Parker responded, his voice grim. “If there were any houses along shore, we could telephone. As it is, the situation is pretty hopeless.”
“Shall we give up the chase?” asked Sara who handled the tiller.
As Mr. Parker hesitated, Penny suddenly grasped his arm. To the starboard she had glimpsed an approaching yacht. Its contour was so well known along the waterfront that she had no doubt as to its identity—the Eloise III.
“Dad, we still have a chance!” she cried. “By radio telephone!”
“How d’you mean?” he demanded.
“The Eloise has a radio telephone!” Penny explained. Excitedly, she began to signal with Sara’s flashlight. “Dad, if only they see us in time, we still may save the bridge!”