The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (219 page)

CHAPTER 21

IN SEARCH OF WEBB

“Beautiful! Beautiful!” chuckled the major as the flames began to die away. “That proves our theory. No machine is required to set off the mines—only the action of water.”

“Professor Bettenridge must have heard the explosion!”Penny exclaimed, fairly beside herself with excitement. “What will happen now?”

“If human nature runs true to form, he will soon come here to investigate,” the major predicted.

The four stepped back into the dense growth of trees to wait. Within five minutes they observed two shadowy figures scurrying down the path toward the shack where the mines were stored. As they came closer, Penny recognized the professor and his wife.

“And someone is following them,” she discerned. “It looks like Mr. Johnson.”

Professor Bettenridge and his wife now were near the trees. Their voices, though low, carried to those in hiding.

“That stupid lout, Webb!” the professor muttered. “He has ruined everything now by setting off the mine too soon.”

“But how could it have been Webb?” his wife protested. “He was at the farmhouse only five minutes ago. He wouldn’t have had time.”

“Then it was someone else—” Professor Bettenridge paused, and cast a quick alert glance about the lake shore. He noted that the boat was tied, but that the door of the shack was wide open.

“We’ve been exposed!” he muttered. “Our game is up, and we’ve got to get away from here before the authorities arrest us.”

“But what about Johnson?” his wife demanded, glancing over her shoulder at the man who was following them down the hillside path.

“We can do nothing now. He had begun to catch on even before tonight, and this explosion finishes everything. Don’t even stop to pack your clothes. We’ll get our car and clear out.”

“Webb?”

“He’ll have to look out for himself. We’re traveling alone and traveling fast.”

Those in hiding suddenly stepped forth from the trees, blocking the path. Major Bryan moved directly in front of the professor, flashing a light into his face.

“Good evening, Claude Arkwright,” he said distinctly.

The professor was startled, but recovered poise quickly. “You are mistaken,” he said in a cold voice. “My name is Bettenridge.”

“No doubt that is what you call yourself now. You are wanted by the Federal government for impersonating an officer.”

“Ridiculous!”

“May I see your draft card?” the major requested curtly.

“Sorry, I haven’t it with me. It is in my room.”

“Then we will go there.”

Nettled, Professor Bettenridge could think of no further excuse. Glancing significantly at his wife, he said: “My dear, will you go to the house and get the card for our inquisitors?”

“We will all go,” corrected the major. “Your wife may be wanted as your accomplice in this latest secret ray machine fleece. We prefer that she does not escape.”

“You are very trusting,” sneered the professor.

By this time, Mr. Johnson had reached the hillside. Puffing from having hurried so fast, he gazed in bewilderment at the little group.

“What does this mean?” he inquired. “What caused the mine to explode?”

“It was set off by being dropped in the lake,” explained the major.

“You mean the explosion was not touched off by Professor Bettenridge’s invention?”

“The machine had nothing whatsoever to do with it,” Penny explained. “Professor Bettenridge and his accomplice, Webb Nelson, have been doctoring the mines with a powder and an outer shield which dissolves in water. They hoped to sell the worthless machine to you before you discovered the truth.”

The information stunned Mr. Johnson, but recovering, he turned furiously upon Professor Bettenridge.

“You cheap trickster!” he shouted. “I’ll have you arrested for this!”

“Have you given the man any money?” Mr. Parker inquired.

“A thousand dollars for an option on the machine. The rest was to have been paid tonight.”

“You’re lucky to get off so easily,” Mr. Parker said. “It’s possible too, that we can get part of your deposit back.”

“You can’t hold me on any trumped-up charge,”Professor Bettenridge said angrily. “You have no warrant.”

He started away, but was brought up short as he felt the major’s revolver pressing against his ribs.

“This will hold you, I think,” said the Army man coolly. “Now lead the way up the hill to the other cabin. I want to see your remarkable invention.”

With his wife clinging to his arm, the professor marched stiffly ahead of the group. He unlocked the cabin door and all went inside.

Jerking off the canvas which covered the secret ray machine, Major Bryan inspected it briefly.

“A worthless contraption!” he said contemptuously. “Utterly useless!”

“Where did you meet Webb Nelson?” Penny asked the professor. “And where is he now?”

“You’ll have to find him for yourself,” sneered the professor. “If he has the sense I think, he’s probably miles away from here by now.”

Determined that the man should not escape, Penny, Salt and Mr. Parker started for the farmhouse, leaving the major and Mr. Johnson to question the professor. As they rapped on the screen door, Mrs. Leonard came to let them in.

“What is going on here tonight, may I ask?” she demanded irritably. “People banging in and out of the house at all hours! Explosions! I declare, I wish I never had rented a room to that crazy professor and his wife!”

“Is Webb Nelson here?” Mr. Parker asked.

“The professor’s helper? Why, no, right after the explosion he came, gathered a bag of things from the professor’s room, and went off down the road.”

“In a car?”

“He was afoot when he left here. Is anything wrong?”

“Considerable. Professor Bettenridge has just been exposed as an impostor. Webb must have realized the jig was up when he heard the mine go off.”

“The professor an impostor!” Mrs. Leonard exclaimed. “Well, of all things!”

“Which way did Webb go?” Mr. Parker asked.

“Down the road toward town when I last saw him.”

“Maybe we can catch him!” Mr. Parker cried.

“If he didn’t get a lift,” Salt added.

All piled into the Parker car which had been left a short distance down the road. But in the drive to Newhall, the man was not sighted. Nor did inquiry in the town reveal anyone who had seen him.

“Undoubtedly he expected to be followed, and cut across the fields or took a side road,” Mr. Parker declared. “We’ll have to depend upon the authorities to pick him up now.”

Stopping at the sheriff’s office, warrants for the man’s arrest were sworn out, and the party then returned to Mrs. Leonard’s. Professor Bettenridge and his wife had been brought to the farmhouse by Major Bryan who proposed to hold them there pending the arrival of federal authorities from Riverview.

“There’s one thing I want to know,” Penny whispered to her father. “How did Professor Bettenridge meet Webb? Perhaps he can explain the man’s connection with the
Snark
.”

The question was put to the professor who replied briefly that he knew nothing whatsoever about Webb Nelson.

“I met him only two weeks ago,” he said. “He claimed to be an expert at handling explosives, so I hired him.”

No one believed the professor was telling the truth. However, it was useless to question him further. Determined not to implicate himself, his wife, or his helper, he spoke as seldom as possible.

“The man has a room here,” Mr. Parker suggested. “Suppose we see what we can find.”

Mrs. Leonard led the way upstairs. The professor’s room was locked, but she opened it with a master key.

Two suitcases had been packed as if for a hasty departure and everything was in disorder. All garments had been removed from the closets. The scrap basket was filled with torn letters which Mr. Parker promptly gathered together and placed in an envelope for future piecing together.

In one of the suitcases he found several newspaper clippings. One bore a picture of the professor, but the name beneath it was Claude Arkwright, and the story related that he was wanted in connection with a $10,000 hoax.

“Bettenridge is our man all right,” the publisher declared. “We made no mistake in holding him for the sheriff.”

Penny had been searching the larger of the two suitcases which seemed to contain only clothing. But as she reached the lower layer, she suddenly gave a jubilant cry.

“Salt! Dad!” she exclaimed. “It’s here! See what I’ve found!”

CHAPTER 22

SALT’S MISSING CAMERA

From the suitcase, Penny lifted Salt’s camera. With a cry of pleasure, he snatched it from her hand and eagerly examined it.

“Is it damaged in any way?” Penny asked.

“It doesn’t seem to be. So the professor had it all the time just as we thought!”

“And here are the plates I tossed into the car the night of the explosion!” Penny added, burrowing deeper into the pile of clothing. “They’re probably ruined by now.”

“Maybe not,” said Salt, examining them. “The professor may have thought they were unexposed plates and kept them for use later on.”

“Anyway, it was crooked of him to try to keep the camera,” Penny declared. “Though I suppose such a small theft doesn’t amount to much in comparison to the trick he nearly played on Mr. Johnson.”

“It matters to me,” the photographer chuckled. “Am I glad to get this camera back! The plates won’t do us any good now they are outdated, but I’ll take them along anyhow. I’m curious to see if they would have shown anything of significance.”

“By all means develop them,” urged Mr. Parker. “Anything else in the suitcase?”

In a pocket of the case Penny found several letters from Mr. Johnson which she gave to her father. Knowing they would be valuable in establishing a case of attempted fraud against the professor, he kept them.

“I wish Webb Nelson hadn’t managed to escape,”Penny remarked as the trio went downstairs again. “He must have started for Newhall, perhaps to catch a train.”

“Any due at this time?” her father asked thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Tell you what,” Mr. Parker proposed. “We can do nothing more here. We may as well drive to the village again and press an inquiry for Webb.”

Once more the car with Salt as driver careened over the bumpy country road to Newhall. They reached the town without sighting anyone who resembled the professor’s helper.

“Drive to the station,” Mr. Parker instructed Salt. “There’s an outside chance Webb went there.”

The depot was a drab little red building, deserted except for a sleepy-eyed station agent who told them there was no passenger train scheduled to leave Newhall before six o’clock the next morning.

“Any freight trains?” Mr. Parker inquired.

“A couple are overdue,” the agent said. “No. 32 from the east, and No. 20, also westbound. No. 20’s just coming into the block.”

Although it seemed unlikely Webb would take a freight train out of town, Mr. Parker, Salt and Penny, decided to wait for it to come in. They went outside, standing in the shadow of the station.

“No sign of anyone around,” Salt declared, looking carefully about. “We may as well go back to the lake.”

“Let’s wait,” Penny urged.

No. 20 rumbled into the station, stirring up a whirlwind of dust and cinders. A trainman with a lantern over his arm, came into the station to get his orders from the agent. He chatted a moment, then went out again, swinging aboard one of the cars. A moment later, the train began to move.

“Shall we go?” Mr. Parker said impatiently.

Penny buttoned her coat as she stepped beyond the protection of the building, for the night air was cold and penetrated her thin clothing. Treading along behind her father and Salt to the car, she started to climb in, when her attention riveted upon a lone figure some distance from the railroad station. A man, who resembled Webb Nelson in build, had emerged from behind a tool shed, and stood close to the tracks watching the slowly moving freight.

Then he ran along beside the train and suddenly leaped into one of the empty box cars.

“Dad! Salt!” she exclaimed. “I just saw someone leap into one of those cars! I’m sure it was Webb!”

“Where?” demanded her father. “Which car?”

“The yellow one. Oh, he’ll get away unless we can have him arrested at the next town!”

“He won’t escape if I can stop him!” Salt muttered.

Racing across the platform, he waited for the car Penny had indicated. Although the train was moving faster now, he leaped and swung himself to a sitting position in the open doorway.

“Look out! Look out!” Penny screamed in warning.

Behind Salt, the man who had taken refuge in the car, moved stealthily toward him, obviously intending to push him off the train. But the photographer knew what to expect and was prepared.