Guilt of the Brass Thieves, Mildred Augustine Wirt [epub ebook reader TXT] 📗

copper and brass. The pieces smuggled out are small in size, but they count up to a staggering total.”

“Sabotage?” Mr. Parker inquired.

“I doubt it,” the island owner replied, frowning. “While the thefts slow up our war work, the delay is not serious. Materials disappear from the stock rooms and from the floors where the girls work. I hold a theory that the metal is being taken by employes who resell it for personal gain.”

“It looks like a simple case of theft,” Mr. Parker declared. “I should think your detectives would have no trouble running down the guilty persons.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Mr. Gandiss answered grimly. “It appeared as easy as A B C. But all ordinary methods of catching the thieves have failed. Obviously, the thefts are well organized by someone thoroughly familiar with the plant. It’s getting on my nerves.”

“Have you called in the police?”

“No, and I don’t intend to. The matter must be handled quietly. That’s why I need your advice.”

“But I’m no detective,” Mr. Parker protested. “Why call on me?”

“Because you and your daughter have solved some pretty tangled cases.”

“Only for the newspaper,” Mr. Parker replied. “How many employes do you have at the plant?”

“About 5000. And not a scrap of real evidence against any individual. There seems to be a perfect system in accounting for all the stock, yet somehow it gets away from the factory.”

“Have you had employes searched as they leave the building?”

“No, we haven’t dared resort to that,” Mr. Gandiss answered. “You can’t search such a large number of workers. If we tried it, half the force would quit.”

“I’d be glad to help you, if I could,” Mr. Parker offered. “Unfortunately, I don’t see how I can if professional detectives have failed.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” said the island owner quickly. “Will you and your daughter visit the factory with me in the morning?”

“We’d welcome the opportunity.”

“Then we’ll go into the records and all the details tomorrow,” Mr. Gandiss declared, well satisfied. “I know you’ll be able to help me.”

Penny and her father were tired, and shortly after ten o’clock went to their rooms. Mr. Gandiss’ problem interested them, though they felt that he had greatly overrated their ability in believing they could contribute to a solution of the mystery.

“I’m not certain I care to become involved,” Mr. Parker confessed to Penny, who in robe and slippers had tiptoed into his room to say goodnight.

“But Dad, we can’t decently refuse,” Penny returned eagerly. “I think it would be fun to try to catch those thieves!”

“Well, we’ll see,” yawned Mr. Parker. “Skip back to bed now.”

Penny read a magazine for an hour, and then switched off the light on the night table. Snuggling down under the silk coverlet, she slept soundly.

Sometime later, she found herself suddenly awake, though what had aroused her she could not guess. The room remained dark, but the first glimmer of dawn slanted through the Venetian blinds.

Penny rolled over and settled down for another snooze. Then she heard a disturbing sound. The wooden blinds were rattling ever so slightly, yet there was no breeze. Next her startled gaze focused upon a hand which had been thrust through the window to stealthily push the blinds aside.

A leg appeared over the sill, and a dark figure stepped boldly into the bedroom.

Terrified, Penny sat up so quickly that the bed springs creaked a loud protest. Instantly the intruder turned his face toward her.

“Keep quiet!” he hissed.

With mingled relief and indignation, Penny recognized Jack. He tiptoed to the bed.

“Now don’t let out a yip,” he cautioned. “I don’t want Mom or my father to hear.”

“Well, of all the nerve!” Penny exclaimed indignantly. “Is this my room or is it your private runway?”

“Don’t go off the deep end. All the doors are locked and the servants have orders not to let me in if I am late.”

“It’s nearly morning,” said Penny, hiding a yawn. “Where in the world did you go?”

“Town,” Jack answered briefly.

Penny began to understand the cause of Mr. Gandiss’ worry about his son.

“Now don’t give me that ‘holier than Thou’ line,” Jack said, anticipating a lecture. “I’m not going to the dogs nearly as fast as the old man believes. He’s an old fossil.”

“You shouldn’t speak of your father that way,” Penny replied. “After all, hasn’t he given you everything?”

“He tries to keep me tied to his apron strings.” Jack sat down on the bed, stretching luxuriously. “Mom isn’t quite so unreasonable.”

“Both of your parents seem like wonderful people to me.”

“Maybe I know ’em better than you do,” Jack grinned. “Oh, they’re okay, in their way. Don’t get me wrong. But my father always is trying to shove me around. If it hadn’t been for your open window, I’d have had to sleep out in the cold.”

“And it would have served you right too! You went off without saying a word to your parents, and worried them half to death. Now kindly remove your carcass from this bed!”

“Oh, cut the lecture,” Jack pleaded, getting up and yawning again. “Gosh, I’m hungry. Let’s find something to eat in the kitchen.”

“Let’s not,” retorted Penny, giving him a shove. “Clear out of here, or I’ll heave the lamp at you!”

“Oh, all right, kitten,” he said soothingly. “I’m going. Remember your promise not to go wagging your tongue about what time I got in.”

“I didn’t promise a thing!”

“But you will,” chuckled Jack confidently. “See you in the morning.”

He tiptoed from the room, and Penny heard him stirring about in the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened and closed several times. Then at last all became quiet again.

“The conceited egg!” she thought irritably. “Now I’m so thoroughly awakened, I can’t possibly go back to sleep.”

Tossing about for a few minutes, she finally arose and dressed. Deciding to take an early morning walk about the island, she moved noiselessly through the house to the kitchen.

There she paused to note the wreckage Jack had left in his wake. The refrigerator door was wide open. As she closed it, she saw dishes of salad, chicken, pickles and tomatoes in a depleted state. Jack had topped off his feast with a quart of milk, and the bottle, together with, a pile of chicken bones, cluttered the sink.

A step was heard in the dining room. Startled, Penny turned quickly around, but it was too late to retreat.

The Gandiss’ cook stood in the kitchen doorway, eyeing her with obvious disapproval.

CHAPTER
5
UNWANTED ADVICE

“Just having an early morning snack?” Mrs. Bevens, the cook, inquired.

“Why, no,” stammered Penny. “That is—.” Confronted with the empty milk bottle, a chicken skeleton, and two empty food dishes, it seemed futile to deny such incriminating evidence. Though tempted to speak of Jack, she decided it would not be sporting of her.

“Young people have such healthy appetites,” the cook sighed. “I had counted on that chicken for luncheon. But never mind. I can send to the mainland for something else.”

Feeling like a criminal, Penny fled to her room.

“I could tar and feather Jack!” she thought furiously. “If he ever gets up, I’ll make him explain to the cook.”

The breakfast bell rang at eight o’clock. When Penny joined the group downstairs, she was surprised to see Jack in a fresh suit, looking little the worse for having been out all night.

“What time did you get in, Jack?” his father inquired pointedly.

“Well, now I just don’t remember,” the boy answered, winking at Penny.

“How did you get in, might be a better question. If I recollect correctly, all of the doors were locked last night at midnight.”

Penny, decidedly uncomfortable, would have confessed her part, had not Jack sent her a warning glance. As everyone went in to breakfast, the matter was allowed to rest.

Ravenously hungry, Penny ate two waffles and several pieces of bacon. Observing the butler’s amazed gaze upon her, she guessed that the cook had told him of the chicken episode.

Breakfast over, she managed to get Jack into a corner.

“Listen,” she said indignantly, “why don’t you tell your parents exactly what happened. Mrs. Bevens thinks I ate up all the chicken.”

“Does she?” Jack chuckled. “That’s rich! Don’t you dare give me away!”

“You give me a pain!” Penny retorted, losing all patience. “If I weren’t a guest in your house, I think I might slug you!”

“Go ahead,” Jack invited, unruffled. “You’re a little spitfire just like Sally! Oh, by the way, how about a trial run in the Spindrift?”

“Not the new sailboat?”

Jack nodded, his face animated. “She was delivered yesterday and is smooth as silk. The mast may need to be stepped back a notch or so, but otherwise she’s perfect for the race. Want to sail with me?”

“I’d love to,” Penny said, forgetting her resentment.

Hand in hand they ran down the path to the docks. The Spindrift, built to Mr. Gandiss’ specifications, at a cost of nearly two thousand dollars, was a magnificent boat. Sixteen feet from bow to stern, its new coat of white was satin smooth, and its metalwork gleamed in the morning sun.

“She’s fast,” Jack declared proudly. “Sally Barker hasn’t a chance to win that race!”

“Will she have a new boat?”

“No, the captain can’t afford it. She’ll have to sail Cat’s Paw again.” In all honesty, Jack added: “It’s a good boat though. Captain Barker built it himself.”

Together they put up the snowy white mainsail, and Jack shoved off from the dock. Heading upstream, the boy demonstrated how close to the wind the Spindrift would sail.

“She’s good in a light breeze too,” he declared. “No matter what sort of weather we get for the race, I figure I’ll win.”

“There’s an old saying that pride goeth before a fall,” Penny reminded him. “Also one about not counting your chickens.”

“Poultry never interested me,” Jack grinned, his eyes on the peak of the mainsail. “I’ll win that brass lantern trophy from Sally if it’s the last act of my life.”

Penny, who had sailed a boat for several seasons in Riverview, hoped that Jack would offer her the tiller. Oblivious to her hints, he kept the Spindrift heeling along so fast that water fairly boiled behind the rudder. Jack was a good sailor and knew it.

Observing the River Queen plying her usual course, the boy deliberately steered to cross her path. As Penny well knew, by rules of navigation the ferryboat was compelled to watch out for the smaller boat. With apparent unconcern, Jack forced the Queen to change courses.

As the boats passed fairly close to each other, Sally appeared at the railing. A bandana handkerchief covered her hair and she wore slacks and a white sweater. Watching the Spindrift with concentration, she cupped her hands and shouted:

“If you sail near Hat Island, better be careful, Jack! The river level is dropping fast this morning. There’s a shoal—”

“When I need advice from you, I’ll ask for it!” Jack replied furiously, turning his back to the ferry.

Sally waved derisively and disappeared into the pilot house.

“Why aren’t you two nicer to each other?” Penny demanded suddenly. “It seems to me you deliberately try to wave a red flag at her. For instance, sailing across the River Queen’s bow—”

“Oh, I just intend to show Sally she can’t push me around! Let’s go home.”

Suddenly tiring of the sport, Jack let out the mainsail, and the boat glided swiftly before the wind. Approaching a small island tangled with bushes and vines, Penny noted that the water was growing shallow. She called Jack’s attention to the muddy bottom beneath them.

“Oh, it’s deep enough through here,” the boy responded carelessly. “I make the passage every day.”

“What island are we passing?”

“Hat. The water always is shoal here. Just sit tight and quit scowling at me.”

“I didn’t know I was,” Penny said, sinking back into the cushions.

The Spindrift gently grazed bottom. Dismayed, Penny straightened up, peering over the side. The boat was running hard into a mud