The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (221 page)

No one answered.

“Ahoy, the
Snark
!” he shouted again.

Still receiving no answer, he ordered his men aboard. Single file, they crawled cautiously up a ladder to the dark deck.

“Anyone aboard?” the captain called once more.

Salt, Mr. Parker and Penny, eager for first hand information, followed the policemen up the ladder.

“My men will search the vessel,” Captain Bricker told them, “but no one appears to be aboard. Everything seems in order.”

Spreading out over the ship, the policemen returned one by one to report they could find nothing amiss. Not even a watchman was aboard.

“This seems to be a wild-goose chase, Captain,”Mr. Parker apologized. “Sorry to have bothered you. We considered our information reliable.”

The policemen began to leave. Penny, lingering on deck until the last, was being helped onto the ladder by Captain Bricker, when they both heard a sound below decks.

“What was that?” the officer muttered, listening alertly.

“It sounded like someone thumping on a wall,”Penny cried. “There it is again!”

The noise was not repeated a third time, but Captain Bricker had heard enough to make him believe that someone remained below. Drawing his revolver, and warning Penny to keep back, he started down the dark companionway.

At a safe distance, Penny trailed him. His bright flashlight beam cut paths of light over the walls as he tried the doors.

“Anyone here?” he shouted.

A thumping noise came from a room on the right. Guided by the sound, Captain Bricker tried the door. It was locked.

A powerfully built man, the officer hurled his weight against the door, and the lock gave way. Keeping back, lest he become a target for a bullet, he kicked the door open. The room was empty! But, the flashlight beam caught the outline of a trapdoor in the floor. The officer flung it open. Below, in the hold, lay a man gagged and bound hand and foot.

Following the police officer into the room, Penny uttered a little cry as she recognized Ben Bartell. Blinking owlishly in the light which had been focused upon him, he was a deplorable sight. His face was bruised, his hair matted with blood, and one eye was swollen almost shut.

“Oh, Ben! What have they done to you?” Penny gasped in horror.

Captain Bricker cut the young man free, and pulled the gag from his mouth. He helped Ben into a chair and then went to another cabin for water.

“Who did this to you?” Penny asked, rubbing the reporter’s hands to restore circulation.

He seemed too exhausted to reply so she did not urge him to speak. The captain brought water which Ben drank thirstily.

“He’s evidently been tied up several hours,” the officer commented.

“Since last night,” Ben whispered, moistening his cracked lips.

“How did you get aboard?”

“I sneaked on when no one was looking—wanted to see what I could learn.”

“Who were the men that tied you up?”

“Don’t know. But before they caught me, I heard plenty. The men on this boat are mixed up in the dynamiting of the Conway Steel Plant.”

Penny nodded, for this information correlated with what she already had learned.

“Was Webb Nelson involved in the plot?” she asked eagerly.

“He set off the dynamite according to what I overheard last night,” Ben revealed. “But he got into a fight with the gang over his pay for the job. He tried to shake them down for a big sum, threatening to spill everything to the police if they didn’t cough up. It ended up in a fight, and Webb was pushed overboard.”

“Then we pulled him out of the river,” Penny supplied. “But he refused to tell us a thing.”

“He knew better than to spill the story because he would have implicated himself. And the gang aboard this boat had no fear either, because they figured he was only pulling a bluff.”

“But who was behind the plot?” Penny asked, puzzled. “What did the men hope to gain by dynamiting the plant?”

“They did it on orders from a man higher up—a man who personally hates the owner of the Conway Steel Plant.”

“Then it was a grudge matter?” Captain Bricker inquired dubiously.

“Not entirely,” Ben returned. “Labor troubles are mixed up in it. This man, who represents a minor faction, has been trying to gain control over the employes without much success. By planning a series of accidents similar to the dynamiting, he thought he might bring the management around to his way of thinking.”

“Who is the leader?” Penny demanded impatiently.

Ben hesitated. “I hate to say,” he confessed, “because I’m not absolutely certain. In the conversation I overheard before I was caught, he wasn’t mentioned by name. But by putting two and two together, I have a fairly good idea.”

“Guessing won’t do in this business,” said Captain Bricker.

“I know that,” admitted Ben. “But here is one bit of fact I gained. The big boss was at the factory on the night of the explosion. In fact, he was nearly caught, and a photographer snapped a picture of him as he fled.”

“You’re sure of that?” Penny demanded excitedly.

“Yes, I heard the men talking about it. The boss has been worried for fear that picture will show up and convict him.”

“Now I’m beginning to understand,” Penny murmured. “It explains why the
Star
photography room was broken into several times. Someone was after those plates which weren’t there!”

“What became of the pictures?” Captain Bricker asked. “They’ll prove valuable evidence.”

“Why, Salt Sommers has the camera and plates in the press car. Of course, we don’t know what the plates will show until they’re developed.”

“We must have them at once,” the captain said. He turned again to Ben. “Now did you know any of the men who attacked you?”

“Not a one. But I can give you a fairly good description of most of them. They’re waterfront riff-raff.”

“In that case some of them may have their pictures in our files,” the captain said. “I’ll issue orders to round up all loiterers in this neighborhood. You should be able to identify most of them in a police line-up.”

“I’m sure I can.”

“Now about the higher-up, who engineered the scheme. You said you had an idea who he is.”

“That’s right,” agreed Ben. “The men spoke of him as a publisher. I don’t like to accuse him outright, because I’ll be suspected of trying to get even with a man I hate.”

Light came swiftly to Penny. Into her mind leaped many facts hitherto puzzling, but which now seemed suddenly clear. The open skylight—the building adjoining the
Star
—Webb Nelson’s call upon the editor of the
Mirror
.

“Ben, you don’t need to accuse anyone!” she cried. “I’ll do it myself. The man is Jason Cordell, and I think we can prove it too!”

CHAPTER 25

PICTURE PROOF

“Yes, Jason Cordell is the man responsible,”Ben agreed soberly. “I can’t prove it, but in my own mind I’m sure.”

“You used to work for him, didn’t you?” the police captain inquired, the inflection of his voice implying that he thought the former reporter might be prejudiced.

“I was fired,” Ben admitted readily. “Cordell let me go and blacklisted me everywhere to prevent me from exposing him. He wanted to discredit me, so that anything I might say would carry no weight.”

“Why were you really discharged, Ben?” Penny asked. “What did you learn about Mr. Cordell?”

“That he had pulled off no end of crooked deals and that he was mixed up with this outlaw labor group. Over a period of three or four years, Cordell has made a mint of money, and not from his paper either!”

“We’ll question Cordell tonight,” Captain Bricker promised. “The trick now is to get you to the station for first aid treatment. Then we’ll want you to look through the police morgue and identify the pictures of as many of the
Snark
’s crew as you can.”

The officer turned to Penny. “As for those undeveloped plates, can you get them right away?”

“I think so,” Penny returned. While Captain Bricker helped Ben up the companionway, she ran ahead to find her father and Salt and tell them of the latest developments.

The two were waiting in the press car. But when Mr. Parker learned how significant the pictures of the Conway Plant explosion might prove to be, he surprised Penny by declining to turn them over immediately to the police.

“We may want those plates for the
Star
,” he declared. “If the police once get their hands on them, it might be a job to get them back again in time to be of any use to us.”

“But Jason Cordell’s arrest may depend upon them,”Penny protested.

“We’ll have the plates developed, and let police see them,” Mr. Parker decided. “But the plates must remain in our hands. Come on, let’s go!”

At a nod from the publisher, Salt started the press car, and without being instructed, headed for the
Star
building.

“How long will it take you to develop those plates?”Mr. Parker asked the photographer.

“Ten minutes.”

“Good!” approved the publisher. “If they reveal anything, we’ll telephone the police station at once.”

As the car coasted to a standstill alongside the
Star
building, Penny’s gaze roved to the darkened offices next door. All of the floors save one were without light. But in the suite occupied by the
Mirror
, a man plainly could be seen moving to and fro.

“There is Jason Cordell now!” she drew attention to him. “Why do you suppose he’s at his office so late tonight?”

“There’s no crime in that,” replied Mr. Parker. “He may be guilty as Ben says, but I’ll not believe it until I have the proof.”

Letting themselves into the newspaper building, the three went up the back stairs to the photography studio. Salt immediately set about developing the plates.

“Something is coming up all right!” he declared jubilantly, as he rocked the developer tray back and forth.

In a few minutes, Salt had washed the plates and was able to examine them beneath the red light. One was blurred and revealed little. But the other plainly showed a man fleeing toward a waiting car.

“Why, the man is Webb Nelson!” Penny exclaimed, recognizing him.

“But notice the driver of the car,” Salt said. “It’s Jason Cordell! Ben was right.”

“Then the man is guilty!” Penny cried. “Oh, Dad, I was certain of it!”

Mr. Parker scanned the plate carefully to ascertain there was no possible mistake.

“Yes, it’s Jason Cordell,” he agreed. “The truth is hard to believe. Why, I lunched with him only yesterday—”

“Dad, he’s a criminal no matter how respectable he has acted.”

“You’re right,” acknowledged Mr. Parker. “I’ll notify the police at once and have him picked up for questioning.”

Transmitting the important information to police headquarters, Mr. Parker talked with Captain Bricker who promised to take personal charge of the matter. As the publisher hung up the receiver, he was startled to have Penny grasp his arm. Excitedly, she pointed out the window.

“Now what?” he asked, failing to understand.

“The light just went off in Mr. Cordell’s office! He’s leaving!”

“Then we’ll stop him,” her father decided. “Salt, you stay here and rush that plate through! I’ll detain Cordell by one means or another until the police arrive!”

With Penny close beside him, he ran down the back stairs to the street. Breathlessly they arrived at the next building. The elevator was not running, but they could hear someone coming down the stairway. Then Jason Cordell, a brief case tucked under his arm, came into view. He stopped short upon seeing Mr. Parker and his daughter.

“Working late?” Mr. Parker inquired pleasantly.

“That’s right,” agreed the other. He would have walked on, but the publisher barred the exit.

“By the way, I met a friend of yours tonight,” Mr. Parker said, stalling for time.

“That so? Who was he?”

“Webb Nelson.”

Mr. Cordell’s face did not change expression, but his eyes narrowed guardedly.

“Not a friend of mine,” he corrected carelessly.

“But I’ve seen him in your office,” Penny said.

Mr. Cordell looked her straight in the eyes and smiled as if in amusement. “That may be,” he admitted,“but all who come to my office are not my friends.”

He tried to pass again, but Mr. Parker stood his ground. “Say, what is this?” Mr. Cordell demanded, suddenly suspicious.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you a few questions about your friend Webb Nelson. Suppose we go back to your office.”

“Suppose we don’t,” Cordell retorted. “I’m tired and I’m going home. If you want to see me, come around tomorrow during business hours.”