Chapter I: Part 1

</pre>

Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Charlie Howard, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

Guilt of the
Brass Thieves

_By_
MILDRED A. WIRT

_Author of_
MILDRED A. WIRT MYSTERY STORIES
TRAILER STORIES FOR GIRLS

_Illustrated_

CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
_Publishers_
NEW YORK

_PENNY PARKER_
MYSTERY STORIES

_Large 12 mo. Cloth Illustrated_

TALE OF THE WITCH DOLL
THE VANISHING HOUSEBOAT
DANGER AT THE DRAWBRIDGE
BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR
CLUE OF THE SILKEN LADDER
THE SECRET PACT
THE CLOCK STRIKES THIRTEEN
THE WISHING WELL
SABOTEURS ON THE RIVER
GHOST BEYOND THE GATE
HOOFBEATS ON THE TURNPIKE
VOICE FROM THE CAVE
GUILT OF THE BRASS THIEVES
SIGNAL IN THE DARK
WHISPERING WALLS
SWAMP ISLAND
THE CRY AT MIDNIGHT

COPYRIGHT, 1945, BY CUPPLES AND LEON CO.

Guilt of the Brass Thieves

PRINTED IN U. S. A.

Dedicated
to
ASA WIRT

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
1 ADRIFT _1_
2 THE BRASS LANTERN _10_
3 A "PROBLEM" BOY _18_
4 THROUGH THE WINDOW _28_
5 UNWANTED ADVICE _36_
6 SWEEPER JOE INFORMS _43_
7 NIGHT SHIFT WORKER _52_
8 OVERHEARD IN THE GATEHOUSE _62_
9 SALLY'S HELPER _70_
10 OVERTURNED _79_
11 A QUESTION OF RULES _88_
12 NIGHT PROWLER _95_
13 THE STOLEN TROPHY _108_
14 TRAPPED _117_
15 UNDER THE SAIL _124_
16 SILK STOCKINGS _131_
17 BASEMENT LOOT _141_
18 OVER THE BALCONY _150_
19 FLIGHT _157_
20 A DESPERATE PLIGHT _165_
21 RESCUE _172_
22 CAPTAIN BARKER'S COURAGE _179_
23 FIRE! _187_
24 DREDGING THE RIVER _195_
25 THE RACE _204_

CHAPTER
1
_ADRIFT_

"This is the limit! The very limit!" Giving his leather suitcase an impatient kick, Anthony Parker began to pace up and down the creaking old dock.

His daughter Penny, who stood in the shadow of a shed out of the hot afternoon sun, grinned at him with good humor and understanding.

"Oh, take it easy, Dad," she advised. "After all, this is a vacation and we have two weeks before us. Isn't the river beautiful?"

"What's beautiful about it?" her father growled.

However, he turned to gaze at a zigzag group of sailboats tacking gracefully along the far rippled shore. Not a quarter of a mile away, a ferryboat churned the blue water to whip cream foam as it steamed upstream.

"Are you certain this is the dock where we were to meet Mr. Gandiss?" Penny asked after a moment. "It seems queer he would fail us, for it's nearly five o'clock now. We've waited almost an hour."

Ceasing the restless pacing, Mr. Parker, publisher of the _Riverview Star_, a daily newspaper, searched his pockets and found a crumpled letter.

Reviewing it at a glance, he said: "Four o'clock was the hour Mr. Gandiss promised to meet us at dock fourteen."

"This is number fourteen," Penny confirmed, pointing to the numbers plainly visible on the shed. "Obviously something happened to Mr. Gandiss. Perhaps he forgot."

"A nice thing!" muttered the publisher. "Here he invites us to spend two weeks at his island home and then fails to meet us! Does he expect us to swim to the island?"

Penny, a slim, blue-eyed girl with shoulder length bob which the wind tossed about at will, wandered to the edge of the dock.

"That must be Shadow Island over there," she observed, indicating a dot of green land which arched from the water like the curving back of a turtle. "It must be nearly a mile away."

"The question is, how much longer are we to wait?" Mr. Parker glanced again at his watch. "It's starting to cloud up, and may rain in another half hour. Why not taxi into town? What's the name of this one-horse dump, anyhow?"

"Our tickets read 'Tate's Beach.'"

"Well, Tate's Beach must do without us this summer," Mr. Parker snapped, picking up his suitcase. "I've had my fill of this! We'll spend the night in a hotel, then start for Riverview on the early morning train."

"Do you know Mr. Gandiss well?" Penny inquired, stalling for time.

"He advertises in the _Star_, and we played golf together occasionally when he came to Riverview. I must have been crazy to accept an invitation to come here!"

"Oh, we'll have a good time if only we can get to the island, Dad."

"I can't figure out exactly why Gandiss invited us," Mr. Parker added thoughtfully. "He has something in mind besides entertainment, but what it is, I haven't been able to guess."

"How about hiring a boat?" Penny suggested.

Her father debated, then shook his head. "No, if Gandiss doesn't think enough of his guests to meet them, then he can do without us. Come on, we're leaving!"

Never noted for an even temper or patience, the publisher strode down the dock.

"Wait, Dad!" Penny called excitedly. "I think someone may be coming for us now!"

A mahogany motorboat with glittering brasswork, approached at high speed from the direction of Shadow Island. As Penny and her father hopefully watched, it swerved toward their dock, and the motor was throttled.

"That's not Mr. Gandiss," the publisher said, observing a sandy-haired, freckled youth at the steering wheel.

Nevertheless, suitcase in hand, he waited for the boat.

The craft came in smoothly, and the young man at the wheel leaped out and made fast to a dock post.

"You're Anthony Parker!" he exclaimed, greeting Penny's father, and bestowing an apologetic smile upon them both. "I'm Jack--Jack Gandiss."

"Harvey Gandiss' son?" Mr. Parker inquired, his annoyance melting.

"A chip off the old block," the boy grinned. "Hope I haven't kept you waiting long."

"Well, we had just about given up," Mr. Parker admitted truthfully.

"I'm sure sorry, sir. I promised my father I would meet you sharp at four. Fact is, I was out on the river with some friends, and didn't realize how late it was. We were practicing for the trophy sailboat race."

Penny's blue eyes sparkled with interest. An excellent swimmer, she too enjoyed sailing and all water sports. However, she had never competed in a race.

"Suppose we get along to the island," Mr. Parker interposed, glancing at the sky. "I don't like the look of those clouds."

"Oh, it won't rain for hours," Jack said carelessly. "Those clouds are moving slowly and we'll reach the island within ten minutes."

Helping Penny and Mr. Parker into the motorboat, he stowed the luggage under the seat and then cast off. In a sweeping circle, the craft sped past a canbuoy which marked a shoal, and out into the swift current.

Penny held tightly to her straw hat to keep it from being blown downstream. A stiff breeze churned the waves which spanked hard against the bow of the boat.

"My father was sorry he couldn't meet you himself!" Jack hurled at them above the whistle of the wind. "He was held up at the airplane factory--labor trouble or something of the sort."

Mr. Parker nodded, his good humor entirely restored. Settling comfortably in the leather seat, he focused his gaze on distant Shadow Island.

"Good fishing around here?" he inquired.

"The best ever. You'll like it, sir."

Jack was nearly seventeen, with light hair and steel blue eyes. His white trousers were none too well pressed and the sleeves of an old sweater bore smears of grease. Steering the boat with finger-tip control, he deliberately cut through the highest of the waves, treating his passengers to a series of jolts.

Some distance away, a ferryboat, the _River Queen_, glided smoothly along, its railings thronged with people. In the pilot house, a girl who might have been sixteen, stood at the wheel.

"Look, Dad!" Penny exclaimed. "A girl is handling that big boat!"

"Sally Barker," Jack informed disparagingly. "She's the daughter of Captain Barker who owns the _River Queen_. A brat if ever there was one!"

"She certainly has that ferryboat eating out of her hand," Mr. Parker commented admiringly.

"Oh, she handles a boat well enough. Why shouldn't she? The captain started teaching her about the river when she was only three years old. He taught her all she knows about sailboat racing, too."

Jack's tone of voice left no doubt that he considered Sally Barker completely beneath his notice. As the two boats drew fairly close together, the girl in the pilot house waved, but he pretended not to see.

"You said something about a sailboat race when we were at the dock," Penny reminded him eagerly. "Is it an annual affair?"

Jack nodded, swerving to avoid a floating log. "Sally won the trophy last year. Before that I held it. This year I am planning on winning it back."

"Oh, I see," Penny commented dryly.

"That's not why I dislike Sally," Jack said to correct any misapprehension she might have gained. "It's just--well, she's so sure of herself--so blamed stubborn. And it's an insult to Tate's Beach the way she flaunts the trophy aboard that cheap old ferryboat!"

"How do you mean?" Mr. Parker inquired, his curiosity aroused.

Jack did not reply, for just then the engine coughed. The boat plowed on a few feet, and the motor cut off again.

"Now what?" Jack exclaimed, alarmed.

Even as he spoke, the engine died completely.

"Sounds to me as if we're out of gas," observed Mr. Parker. "How is your supply?"

A stricken look came upon Jack's wind-tanned face. "I forgot to fill the tank before I left the island," he confessed ruefully. "My father told me to be sure to do it, but I started off in such a hurry."

"Haven't you an extra can of fuel aboard?" Mr. Parker asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

Jack shook his head, gazing gloomily toward the distant island. The current had caught the boat and was carrying it downstream, away from the Gandiss estate.

"Nothing to do then, but get out the oars. And it will be a long, hard row."

"Oars?" Jack echoed weakly. "We haven't any aboard and no anchor either."

Mr. Parker was too disgusted to speak. A man who demanded efficiency and responsibility in his own newspaper plant, he had no patience with those negligent of their duties. Because he and Penny were to be guests of the Gandiss family, he made an effort not to blame Jack for the mishap.

"I--I'm terribly sorry," the boy stammered. "But we shouldn't be stranded here long. We'll soon be picked up."

Hopefully, Jack gazed toward the nearest shore. No small boats were visible. The ferry, plying her regular passenger route, now was far upstream.

Although the sun still shone brightly, clouds frequently blocked it from view. Waves slapped higher against the drifting boat and the river took on a dark cast.

Neither Penny nor her father spoke of the increasing certainty of rain. However, they watched the shifting clouds uneasily. Soon there was no more sun, and the river waters became inky black.

Presently the wind died completely and a dead calm held the boat. But not for many minutes. Soon a ripple of breeze ruffled the water, and far upstream a haze of rain blotted out the shoreline.

"Here it comes!" Mr. Parker said tersely, buttoning up his coat.

The next instant, wind and rain struck the little boat in full force. Penny's hat was swept from her head and went sailing gaily down river. Waves which broke higher and higher, spanked the boat, threatening to overturn it when they struck broadside.

"If we just had an anchor--" Jack murmured but did not finish.

Above the fury of the storm could be heard the faint clatter of a motorboat engine. Straining their eyes, they pierced the wall of rain to see a small speedboat fighting its way upstream.

"A boat!" Penny cried. "Now we'll be picked up!"

Jack sprang to his feet, waving and shouting. Closer and closer approached the boat, but there was no answering shout from those aboard.

Mr. Parker, Penny and Jack yelled in unison. They thought for a moment that the occupants must have heard their cries and would come to the rescue. But the craft did not change course.

Keeping steadily on, it passed the drifting motorboat well to starboard, and disappeared into the curtain of rain.

CHAPTER
2
_THE BRASS LANTERN_

The rain dashed into Penny's face and ran in rivulets down her neck. With a change in the wind direction, the air had become suddenly cold. Shivering, she huddled close to her father for warmth.

Veiled by rain, the shore no longer was visible. Far to the right, the chug of a laboring motorboat was heard for an instant, then died away. It was apparent to Penny that they were drifting downstream quite rapidly.

"Listen!" she cried a moment later.

From upriver had come three sharp blasts of a whistle.

"That's the _River Queen_," muttered Jack, tossing a lock of wet hair out of his eyes. "We must be right in her path."

"Then maybe we'll be picked up!" Penny exclaimed hopefully.

Jack gave a snort of disgust. "I'd rather drown than accept help from Sally Barker! Wouldn't she gloat!"

"Young man," interposed Mr. Parker with emphasis, "this is no time for false pride. We're in a predicament and will welcome help from any source."

"Yes, sir, I guess you're right," murmured Jack, completely squelched. "I sure am sorry about getting you into this mess."

Gazing through the curtain of driving rain, Penny tried to glimpse the _River Queen_. Suddenly she distinguished its high decks and was dismayed to see that the ferry was bearing at full speed directly toward the drifting motorboat.

Jack leaped to his feet, frantically waving his arms. Realizing the danger of being run down, Mr. Parker likewise sprang up, shouting.

Straight on came the _River Queen_, her pilot seemingly unaware of the little boat low in the water and directly in the path.

"They don't see us!" Jack shouted hoarsely. "We'll be run down!"

The ferryboat now was very close. Its dark hull loomed up. Expecting a splintering crash, Penny struggled to her feet, preparing to jump overboard. But instead, she heard a series of sharp whistle toots, and the ferryboat swerved, missing them by a scant three yards.

"Wow! Was that close!" Jack muttered, collapsing weakly on the seat. Then he straightened up again into alert attention, for the ferry had reduced speed.

"Maybe we're going to be picked up!" he exclaimed.

The ferryboat indeed had maneuvered so that the current would swing the drifting craft directly toward it.

Five minutes later, wet and bedraggled, the three stranded sailors scrambled up a lowered ladder onto the _River Queen's_ slippery deck. A few curious passengers who braved the rain, stared curiously at them as they sought shelter.

"Well, if it isn't Jack Gandiss, and in trouble again!" boomed Captain Barker, owner of the ferry. He was a short, stubby, red-faced man, with twinkling blue eyes. "What happened this time? Engine conk out?"

"We ran out of gas," the boy admitted briefly. "Thanks for picking us up."

"Better thank Sally here," replied the captain, giving orders for the motorboat to be taken in tow. "It was her sharp eyes that picked you up out o' the storm."

Penny turned to see a dark-haired girl of her own age standing in the doorway of the pilot house. In oilskin hat and coat, one easily might have mistaken her for a boy. Impatiently she brushed aside a strand of wet hair which straggled from beneath the ugly headgear, and came out on the rain-swept deck.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jack!" she chortled, enjoying the boy's discomfiture. "Imagine an old tar like you running out of gas!"

"Never mind the cracks!" he retorted grimly. "Just go back to your knitting!"

Turning her back upon Jack, Sally studied Penny with curious interest.

"Do I know you?" she inquired.

"My father and I are to be guests at the Gandiss home," Penny explained, volunteering their names. "We were on our way to Shadow Island when we ran out of gas."

"Let's not go into all the gory details here," Jack broke in. "We're getting wet."

"You mean you _are_ all wet," corrected Sally, grinning.

"Sally, take our guests to the cabin," Captain Barker instructed with high good humor. "I'll handle the wheel. We're late on our run now."

"How about dropping us off at the island?" Jack inquired. "If we had some gasoline--"

"We'll take care of you on the return trip," the captain promised. "No time now. We have a hundred passengers to unload at Osage."

Penny followed Sally along the wet deck to a companionway and down the stairs to the private quarters of the captain and his daughter.

"Osage is a town across the river," Sally explained briefly. "Pop and I make the run every hour. This is our last trip today, thank Jupiter!"

The cabin was warm and cozy, though cramped in space. Sally gave Mr. Parker one of her father's warm sweaters to put on over his sodden garments, offered Penny a complete change of outer clothing, and deliberately ignored Jack's needs.

"You may return the duds later," she said, leading Penny to an adjoining cabin where she could change her clothes. "How long do you folks expect to stay at Shadow Island?"

"Two weeks probably." Penny wriggled out of the limp dress.

"Then we'll have time to get better acquainted. You'll be here for the trophy race too!" Sally's dark eyes danced and she added in a very loud voice: "You'll be around to see Jack get licked!"

"In a pig's eye!" called Jack through the thin partition of the cabin. "Why, that old sailboat of yours is just a mess of wormwood!"

"It was fast enough to win the brass lantern trophy!" Sally challenged, winking at Penny. In a whisper she explained: "I always get a kick out of tormenting Jack! He's so cocky and sure of himself! It does him good to be taken down a peg."

"Tell me about the race," urged Penny. "It sounds interesting--especially your feud with Jack."

"Later," promised Sally carelessly. "Right now I want to get you something warm to drink before we dock at Osage. Here, give me those wet clothes. I'll dry them for you, and send them to Shadow Island tomorrow."

Rejoining Jack and Mr. Parker, the captain's daughter conducted the party to a food bar in the passenger lounge.

"Hot Java," she instructed the counter man. "And what will you have to go with it? Hamburgers or dogs? This is on the house."

"Make mine a dog with plenty of mustard," laughed Penny, enjoying the girl's breezy slang.

"Nothing for me except coffee," said Jack stiffly. "I'll pay for it too."

Mr. Parker decided upon a hamburger. Food, especially the steaming hot coffee, revived the drooping spirits of the trio. Even Jack thawed slightly in his attitude toward Sally.

Sipping the brew from a thick China mug, Penny's gaze roved curiously about the lounge. The room was poorly furnished, with an ancient red carpet and wicker chairs. Passengers were absorbed with newspapers, their fretful children, or the _River Queen's_ supply of ancient magazines.

The lounge however, was scrupulously clean, and every fixture had been polished until it shone like gold. Sam Barker, whose father before him had sailed a river boat, was an able, efficient captain, one of the best and most respected on the waterfront.

Attached to an overhead beam near the food bar, swung an ancient brass lantern. The body was hexagonal in shape, its panes of glass protected by bars of metal. A two-part ornamental turret was covered with a hood from which was attached the suspending ring.

"That lantern came from an old whaling boat nearly a century ago," Sally explained. "For many years it was kept in the Country Club as a curio. Then two seasons ago, it was offered as a trophy in the annual Hat Island sailboat race held here."

"I won the lantern the first year," Jack contributed. He pointed to his name and the date engraved on the trophy's base.

"The second year, I upset the apple cart by winning," Sally added with a grin. "The race next week will decide who keeps the lantern permanently."

"Providing it isn't stolen first!" Jack cut in pointedly. "Sally, why must you be so stubborn about hanging it here on the _River Queen?_ Every Tom, Dick, and Harry rides this old tub."

"Don't call the _River Queen_ a tub," drawled Sally, her tone warning him he had gone far enough. "And as for our passengers--"

"What I mean," Jack corrected hastily, "is that you can't vouch for the honesty of every person who rides this ferry."

"I'm not in the least worried about the lantern being stolen," Sally retorted. "I won it fairly enough, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Then it's mine to display as I choose. The racing committee agreed to that. The lantern is chained to a beam and is safe enough."

"I hope so," Jack said grimly. "I aim to win it back, and I don't want to see it do a disappearing act before the day of the race."

"You won't," Sally returned shortly. "I accept full responsibility, so let me do the worrying."

A signal bell tapped several times, a warning to the passengers that the ferry was approaching shore. As those aboard began to gather up their belongings, Sally buttoned her oilskin coat tightly about her.

"Excuse me for a minute," she said to Penny and Mr. Parker. "I've got to help Pop. See you later."

CHAPTER
3
_A "PROBLEM" BOY_

Penny, Jack and Mr. Parker reached the deck of the _River Queen_ in time to see Sally leap nimbly across a wide space to the dock. There she looped a great coil of rope expertly over the post and helped get the gangplank down.

"Step lively!" she urged the passengers pleasantly, but in a voice crisp with authority.

In a space of five minutes, she had helped an old man on crutches, found a child who had become separated from his mother, and refused passage to three young men who sought to make a return trip on the ferry.

"Sorry, this is the end of the line," she told them firmly. "Our last trip today."

"Then how about a date?" one of the men teased.

Sally paid not the slightest heed. Raising the gangplank, she signalled for the ferry to pull away.

"Sally always likes to put on a show!" Jack muttered disapprovingly. "To watch her perform, one would think she were the captain!"

"Well, she impresses me as a most capable young lady," commented Mr. Parker. "After all, we owe our rescue to her and Captain Barker."

Taking the hint, Jack offered no further disparaging remarks. Rain had ceased to fall, but deep shadows blotted out the river shores. Watching from the railing, Penny saw the island loom up, a dark, compact mass of black.

"The ferry can't land there?" she inquired in surprise.

Jack shook his head. "Shoals," he explained briefly. "In the spring during the flood season, the channel is fairly safe. Now--"

He broke off, and turned to stare toward the pilot house. The engines had been stilled and the ferry was drifting in toward the island. Captain Barker stood by his wheel, silent, watchful as a cat.

"By George!" Jack exclaimed admiringly. "The old boy intends to take her in through the shoals. But it's a risky thing to do."

"It is necessary?" asked Mr. Parker, deeply concerned. "After all, we've already caused the Barkers great inconvenience. Surely there is no need for them to risk going aground just to put us off at the Island."

"Captain Barker could give us a little gasoline, but he gets a big kick out of doing it this way," Jack muttered. "He and Sally both like to show off. It wouldn't surprise me if the old boy oversteps himself this time. We're running into shoal water."

Sally, evidently worried, stationed herself at the bow of the _River Queen_, dropping a leadline over the side.

"Eight and a half feet!" she called. "Seven and three-quarters--"

"We'll never make it," Jack murmured. "We're going aground now!"

Even as he spoke, the ferryboat grated on the sandy river bottom.

Captain Barker seemed not in the least disturbed. "Let 'er have it!" he shouted through the speaking tube. "Every ounce we've got!"

Rasping and groaning in its timbers, the stout little ferryboat ground her way through the sand. For one terrifying moment it seemed that she had wedged herself fast. But she shuddered and went over the bar into deeper water.

Sally drew a long sigh of relief, and grinned at Jack. "I knew Pop could make it," she chuckled, "but he sure had me scared for a minute."

"That was a remarkable demonstration of piloting," Mr. Parker declared. "Are we in safe waters now?"

"Yes, the channel is deep all the way to our dock," Jack replied. "I guess Captain Barker aims to dump us off at our front door."

Bells jingled again, the engines were cut, and the ferry drifted up to Shadow Island wharf. While Mr. Parker and Penny were thanking Captain Barker, Sally helped Jack and one of the sailors set loose the towed motorboat. Their loud, argumentative voices could be heard from the stern.

"Those kids scrap like a dog and a cat when they're together," chuckled Captain Barker. "But I calculate they'll outgrow it when they're a little older. At least, I hope so."

Saying a reluctant goodbye, Mr. Parker and Penny tramped ashore, and with Jack, watched until the _River Queen_ had safely passed the shoal and was well out in the main channel again.

Before they could pick up the luggage, an elderly, gray-haired man came hurriedly down a flagstone walk from the brightly lighted house on the knoll.

"Mr. Gandiss!" exclaimed Anthony Parker, grasping his outstretched hand. "This is my daughter, Penelope. Or Penny, everyone calls her."

The owner of Shadow Island greeted the girl with more than casual interest. But as he spoke, his puzzled gaze followed the _River Queen_ whose lights now could be seen far upstream.

"I may as well make a clean breast of it, Dad," Jack said before his father could request an explanation. "We ran out of gas, and the _Queen_ picked us up."

"You ran out of gas? I distinctly recall warning you this afternoon that the tank would need to be refilled."

"I forgot," Jack said, edging away. Before his father could reprimand him further, he disappeared in the direction of the boathouse.

Mr. Gandiss, a stout, pleasant man, was distressed by his son's behavior. As he led the way to the house, he apologized so profusely that Penny and her father began to feel uncomfortable.

"Oh, boys will be boys," Mr. Parker declared, trying to put an end to the discussion. "No harm was done."

"We enjoyed the adventure," added Penny sincerely. "It was a pleasure to meet Captain Barker and his daughter."

Mr. Gandiss refused to abandon the subject.

"Jack worries me," he confessed ruefully. "He's sixteen now--almost seventeen, but in some respects he has no responsibility. He's an only child, and I am afraid my wife and I have spoiled him."

"Jack doesn't seem to get along with Sally Barker very well," Penny remarked, smiling at the recollection.

"That's another thing," nodded the island owner. "Sally is a fine girl and smart as a whip. Jack has the idea that because she isn't the product of a finishing school, she is beneath notice. Sally likes to prick holes in Jack's inflated ego, and then the war is on!"

"You have a fine son," Mr. Parker said warmly. "He'll outgrow all these ideas."

"I hope so," sighed Mr. Gandiss. "I certainly do." His expression conveyed the impression that he was not too confident.

The Gandiss home, surrounded by shrubs, was large and pretentious. At the front there was a long, narrow terrace which caught the breeze and commanded a view of the river for half a mile in either direction. There were tennis courts at the rear, and a garden.

"I'm glad you folks will be here for the annual sailboat race," Mr. Gandiss remarked, pausing to indicate the twinkling shore lights across the water. "If it were daytime, you could see the entire course from here. Jack is to race a new boat built especially for him."

"Sally Barker is his chief competitor?" inquired Penny.

"Yes, in skill they are about equally matched, I should say. They take their feud very seriously."

In the open doorway stood Mrs. Gandiss, a silver-haired woman not yet in her fifties. Cordially, she bade the newcomers welcome.

"What a dreadful time you must have had out on the river!" she said sympathetically. "The storm came up so quickly. My husband would have met you himself, but he was delayed at the factory."

A servant was sent for the luggage, and Effie, a maid, conducted Penny to her room. The chamber was luxuriously furnished with a green tiled bath adjoining. Pulling a silken cord to open the Venetian blinds, Penny saw that the window overlooked the river. She breathed deeply of the damp, rain-freshened air.

"Where do the Barkers live?" she asked Effie who was laying out embroidered towels.

"Wherever it suits their fancy to drop anchor, Miss. Since I came here to work, the only home they ever have had was aboard their ferryboat."

The luggage soon was brought up, and Effie unpacked, carefully hanging up each garment. Penny inquired if she would have time for a hot bath.

"Oh, yes, Miss. The Gandiss' never dine until eight. I will draw your tub. Pine scent or violet?"

Penny swallowed hard and nearly lost her composure. "Make it pine," she managed, "and omit the needles!"

Exposure to rain and cold had stiffened her muscles and made her feel thoroughly miserable. However, after fifteen minutes in a steaming bath, she felt as fresh as ever. Her golden hair curled in ringlets tight to her head, and when she came from the bathroom, she found a blue dinner dress neatly pressed and laid on the bed.

"Two weeks of this life and I won't even be able to brush my own teeth," she thought. "No wonder Jack is such a spoiled darling."

Penny wondered what Mrs. Maud Weems would say if she were there. The Parkers lived nearly a hundred miles away in a city called Riverview, and Mrs. Weems, the housekeeper, had looked after Penny since the death of her mother many years before.

Mr. Parker, known throughout the state, published a daily newspaper, the _Star_, and his daughter frequently helped him by writing news or offering unrequested advice.

In truth, neither she nor her father had been eager to spend a vacation with members of the Gandiss family, feeling that they were practically strangers. Jack, Penny feared, might prove a particular trial.

In the living room, a cheerful fire had been started in the grate. Mr. and Mrs. Gandiss were chatting with Mr. Parker, trying their best to make him feel at home.

An awkward break in the conversation was covered by announcement that dinner was served. Jack's chair at the end of the table remained conspicuously empty.

"Where is the boy?" Mr. Gandiss asked his wife in a disapproving tone.

"I'm sure I don't know," she sighed. "The last I saw him, he was down at the dock."

A servant was sent to find Jack. After a long absence, he returned to say that the boy was nowhere on the island, and that the motorboat was missing.

"He's off somewhere again, and without permission," Mr. Gandiss said irritably. "Probably to the Harpers'. You see what I mean, Mr. Parker? A growing boy is a fearful problem."

Penny and her father avoided a discussion of such a personal subject. An excellent dinner of six courses was served in perfect style, but while the food was well cooked, no one really enjoyed the meal.

Coffee in tiny China cups was offered in Mr. Gandiss' study. His wife excused herself to go to the kitchen for a moment and the two men were left alone with Penny.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Gandiss said:

"Anthony, I suppose you wonder why I really invited you here."

"I am curious," Mr. Parker admitted, lighting a cigar. "Does your son Jack have anything to do with it?"

"I need advice in dealing with the boy," Mr. Gandiss acknowledged. "It occurred to me that association with a sensible girl like your daughter might help to straighten him out."

"I wouldn't count on that," Penny interposed hastily. "As Dad can tell you, I have a lot of most unsensible ideas of my own."

"Jack is a problem," Mr. Gandiss resumed, "but I have even more serious ones. How are you two at solving a mystery?"

Mr. Parker winked at his daughter and paid her tribute. "Penny has built up quite a reputation for herself as an amateur Sherlock Holmes. Running down gangsters is her specialty."

"Dad, you egg!" Penny said indignantly.

Both men laughed. But Mr. Gandiss immediately became serious again.

"My problem is difficult," he declared, "and I believe you may be able to help me, because I've heard a great deal about the manner in which you have solved other mysteries."

"Only in the interests of gaining good stories for our newspaper, _The Star_," Mr. Parker supplied.

"This probably would not net a story for your paper," the island owner said. "In fact, we are particularly anxious to keep the facts from getting into print. The truth is, strange things have occurred at my airplane factory in Osage--"

Mr. Gandiss did not finish, for at that moment someone rapped loudly on an outside screen door.

CHAPTER
4
THROUGH THE WINDOW

"Now who can that be?" Mr. Gandiss remarked, startled by the knock on the door. "I heard no motorboat approach the island."

He waited, and a moment later a servant entered to say that two detectives, Jason Fellows and Stanley Williams, had arrived from the factory and wished to report to him.

Penny and her father politely arose to withdraw, but Mr. Gandiss waved them back into chairs.

"No, don't go," he said. "I want you to meet these men."

The two detectives, who had reached the island in a rented motorboat, appeared in the doorway. Mr. Gandiss introduced them to Penny and her father, and then inquired what had brought them to the house at so late an hour.

"It's the same old story only more of it," Detective Williams said tersely. "Another large supply of brass disappeared from the factory yesterday."

"Any clues?"

"Not a one. Obviously the brass is being stolen by employes, but so far the guilty persons have eluded all our traps."

"Have you calculated how much I am losing a year?" Mr. Gandiss asked bitterly.

"At the present resale value of brass and copper, not less than $60,000 a year," Mr. Fellows reported. "However, the thieves are becoming bolder day by day, so your loss may run much higher."

"See here," Mr. Gandiss said, showing irritation. "I'm paying you fellows a salary to catch those thieves, and I expect action! You say you have no clues?"

"Several employes are under suspicion," Mr. Williams disclosed. "But we haven't enough evidence to make any accusations or arrests."

"Then get some evidence!" Mr. Gandiss snapped. "This ring of petty thieves must be broken up! If you can't produce results, I'll turn the case over to another agency."

After the two detectives had gone, the island owner began to pace the floor nervously.

"Now you know why I wanted you to come here, Mr. Parker," he said, slumping down into a chair again. "My plant, which is making war materials, is being systematically looted of valuable 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 bank.

"About! Bring her about, Jack!" she cried before she considered how he might take the uninvited advice.

"The water is deep enough here," Jack answered stubbornly. "It's only a tiny shoal. We'll sail through it easily."

Penny said nothing more, though her lips drew into a tight line.

Jack held to his course. For a moment it appeared that the boat would glide over the shoal into deeper water. Then the next instant they were hard aground. The sail began to flap.

"We're stuck like a turtle in a puddle," commented Penny, not without satisfaction.

"We'll get off!" Jack cried, seizing a paddle from the bottom of the boat.

He tried to shove away from the shoal, but the wind against the big sail resisted his strength.

"You'll never get off that way," Penny said calmly. "Why not take down the sail? We're hard aground now."

Jack glared, and looked as if he would like to heave the paddle at her.

"Okay," he growled.

Winds which came from the head of Hat Island were tricky. Before Jack could lower the sail, the breeze, shifting slightly, struck the expanse of canvas from directly aft.

"Look out, Jack!" Penny screamed a warning. "We're going to jibe!"

Jack ducked but not quickly enough. With great violence, the wind swung the sail over to the opposite side of the boat, the boom striking him a stunning blow on the back of the head.

Moaning with pain, he slumped into the bottom of the _Spindrift_.

CHAPTER
6
SWEEPER JOE INFORMS

Alarmed for Jack, Penny scrambled over a seat to his side. He had been struck a hard blow by the swinging boom and there was a tiny jagged cut just behind his ear. A glance satisfied the girl that he was not seriously injured and that she could do nothing for him at the moment.

Turning her attention to the sail which was showing an inclination to slam over again, she quickly pulled it in and lowered it to the deck.

By then Jack had opened his eyes. His bewildered gaze rested upon her, and he rubbed his head.

"You--" he mumbled, raising on an elbow.

Penny firmly pushed him back. "Lie still!" she commanded.

Seizing the paddle, she tried to shove the boat backwards off the mud bank. Her best efforts would not move it an inch.

Slowly Jack raised himself to a sitting position. He rubbed his head. Bewilderment changed to a look of comprehension.

"I'm okay now," he said huskily. "We're hard aground, aren't we?"

"Solid as a rock," agreed Penny, wiping perspiration from her forehead. "Any ideas?"

"I'll get out and push."

"You're not strong enough. You took a nasty blow on the head."

Had not Jack looked so thoroughly miserable, Penny might have been tempted to adopt an "I told you so" attitude. There had been no excuse for running aground. Sally Barker had warned them about the shoal, and Jack deliberately had disregarded her advice.

"I guess it was my fault," Jack mumbled, the words coming with difficulty. "The water was deep enough here yesterday. I was so sure--"

His eyes, like those of an abused puppy, appealed to her for sympathy. Suddenly, Penny's resentment vanished and she felt sorry for Jack.

"Never mind," she said kindly. "We'll get off somehow. If necessary, I can swim to Shadow Island for help."

"It won't be necessary." Jack pulled off shoes and socks, and rolled up his slacks above his knees. "I got us into this, and I'll get us out. Just sit tight."

Despite Penny's protests, he swung over the side, into the shallow water. Applying his shoulder to the _Spindrift's_ bow, he pushed with all his strength. Penny dug into the mud with the paddle.

The boat groaned and clung fast to the shoal. Then inch by inch it began to move backwards.

"We're off!" Penny cried jubilantly.

Jack pushed until the _Spindrift_ was safely away from the shoal. Wet and plastered with mud, he scrambled aboard.

"No use putting up the sail," he said gloomily. "The centerboard is damaged. When we went aground I should have pulled it up, but things happened so fast I didn't think of it."

"Can't it be repaired?"

"Oh, sure, but it means hauling the boat out of water for several days. And the race will be held in a week. I'll have no chance to practice."

"It's a bad break," Penny said sympathetically. "Perhaps the centerboard isn't much damaged."

They paddled to the Shadow Island dock. There with the help of the Gandiss chauffeur, Jack tied ropes under the bottom of the _Spindrift_ and by means of a hoist and crane, lifted the boat a few feet out of water. A piece had been broken from the centerboard and the bottom was so badly scratched that it would have to be repainted before the race.

"I call this wretched luck!" Jack fumed. "It will take days to repair and repaint the _Spindrift_."

The accident had a subduing effect upon the boy, and the remainder of the day he tried to make amends to Penny. They swam together and played three sets of tennis. In each contest Penny won with ease.

"You're about the first girl who ever beat me at anything," Jack said ruefully. "Guess that rap on the head did me no good."

"How about the sailboat race?" Penny tripped him. "Didn't Sally win the lantern trophy?"

Grudgingly, Jack admitted that she had. "But the race was a fluke," he added. "The wind was tricky and favored Sally's old tub. It won't happen twice."

Annoyed by the youth's alibis, Penny turned and walked away.