Part 3

Their interest steadily mounting, they went on toward the house and stationed themselves where they could see advantageously. It was evident by this time that the guests suspected something had gone amiss. Significant glances were exchanged, a few persons looked at their watches, and all eyes focused upon Mrs. Kippenberg who tried desperately to carry off an embarrassing situation.

Minutes passed. The crowd became increasingly restless. Finally, the usher returned and spoke quietly to Mrs. Kippenberg. They both retired to the house.

"It looks as if there will be no wedding today," Salt declared. "Atherwald hasn't been located."

"I won't dare use the story unless I'm absolutely certain of my facts," Penny said anxiously.

"We'll get them, never fear."

Mrs. Kippenberg and the usher had stepped into the breakfast room. Posting Penny at the outside door, Salt followed the couple. From the hallway he could hear their conversation distinctly.

"But he must be somewhere on the grounds," the matron argued.

"I can't understand it myself," the young man replied. "Grant's disappearance is very mysterious to say the least. Several persons saw him arrive here and everything seemed to be all right."

"What time is it now?"

"Two thirty-five, Mrs. Kippenberg."

"So late? Oh, this is dreadful! How can I face them?"

"I know just how you feel," the young man said with sympathy. "If you wish I will explain to the guests."

"No, no, this will disgrace us," Mrs. Kippenberg murmured. "Wait until I have talked with Sylvia."

She turned suddenly and reached the hall door before Salt could escape. Her eyes blazed with wrath as she faced him.

"So here you are!" she cried furiously. "How dare you disregard my orders? I will have no reporters on the grounds!"

"I'm only a photographer," Salt said meekly enough. "Sorry to intrude but I've been assigned to get a picture of the bride. It won't take a minute--"

"Indeed it won't," Mrs. Kippenberg broke in, her voice rising higher. "You'll take no pictures here. Not one! Now get out."

"A picture might be better than a story that the bridegroom had skipped out," Salt said persuasively.

"Why, you--you!" Mrs. Kippenberg's face became fiery red. She choked as she tried to speak. "Get out, I say!"

Salt did not retreat. Instead he took his camera from his pocket.

"Just one picture, Mrs. Kippenberg. At least of you."

Realizing that the photographer meant to take it whether or not she gave permission, the woman suddenly lost all control over her temper.

"Don't you dare!" she cried furiously. "Don't you dare!"

Whirling about, she seized an empty plate from the tall stack on the serving table.

"Hold that pose!" chortled Salt, goading her on.

The woman hurled the plate straight at him. Salt gleefully snapped a picture and dodged. The plate crashed into the wall behind him, splintering into a half dozen pieces.

"Swell action picture!" he grinned.

"Don't you dare try to use it!" screamed Mrs. Kippenberg. "I'll telephone your editor! I'll have you discharged!"

"See here," offered the usher, taking out his wallet. "I'll give you ten dollars for that picture."

Salt shook his head, still smiling broadly.

The sound of the crash had brought servants running to the scene.

"Have this person ejected from the grounds," Mrs. Kippenberg ordered harshly. "And see that he doesn't get back."

Just outside the house, Penny huddled against the wall, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She had heard everything. As Salt backed out the door he did not glance at her but he muttered for her ears alone:

"You're on your own now, kid. I'll be waiting at the drawbridge."

An instant later two servants seized him roughly by the arms and escorted him down the walk to the boat landing.

CHAPTER 6 _A RING OF WHITE GOLD_

Penny waited anxiously, but Mrs. Kippenberg did not come to the outside door. Nor had it occurred to the two servants that the girl was connected in any way with the photographer.

"On my own," she repeated to herself. "On my own with a vengeance."

Salt had his picture and it was up to her to get a good story. Until now she had depended upon his guidance. With all support withdrawn she suddenly felt uncertain and incompetent.

Penny waited a few minutes before gathering sufficient courage to enter the long hallway. One glance assured her that the breakfast room was deserted.

"Mrs. Kippenberg probably went upstairs to talk with her daughter," she reasoned. "I'd like to hear what they say to each other."

With the guests assembled in the garden, only a few persons lingered in the house. No one paid heed to Penny as she moved noiselessly up the spiral stairway.

A bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Hearing a low murmur of voices, Penny paused. Framed against the leaded windows she saw Sylvia Kippenberg talking with her mother. Despite a tear-streaked face the girl was very lovely. She wore a long flowing gown of white satin and the flowers at the neckline were outlined with real pearls. Her net veil had been discarded. A bouquet of flowers lay on the floor.

"How could Grant do such a cruel thing?" Penny heard her sob. "I just can't believe it of him, Mother. Surely he will come."

Mrs. Kippenberg held the girl in her arms, trying to comfort her.

"It is nearly three now, Sylvia. The servants have searched everywhere. A man of his type isn't worthy of you."

"But I love him, Mother. And I am sure he loves me. It doesn't seem possible he would do such a thing without a word of explanation."

"He will explain, never fear," Mrs. Kippenberg said grimly. "But now, we must think what has to be done. The guests must be told."

"Oh, Mother!" Sylvia went into another paroxysm of crying.

"There is no other way, my dear. Leave everything to me."

Before Penny realized that the interview had ended, Mrs. Kippenberg stepped out into the hall. Her eyes focused hard upon the girl.

"You are a reporter!" she accused harshly. "I remember, you were with that photographer!"

"Please--" began Penny.

"I'll tell you nothing," the woman cried. "How dare you intrude in my home and go about listening at bedroom doors!"

"Mrs. Kippenberg, if only you will calm yourself, I may be able to help you."

"Help me?" the woman demanded. "What do you mean?"

"I may be able to give you a clue as to what became of Grant Atherwald."

The anger faded from Mrs. Kippenberg's face. She came close to Penny, grasping her arm with a pressure which hurt.

"You have seen him? Tell me!"

"He came over in the same boat."

"How long ago was that?"

"Shortly after one o'clock. He was stopped at the front door by a servant who handed him a note. Mr. Atherwald read it and walked down toward the garden."

"I wonder which one of the servants spoke to him? It was at the front door, you say?"

"Yes."

"Then it must have been Gregg. I'll talk with him."

Forgetting Penny, Mrs. Kippenberg hastened down the stairway. She jangled a bell and asked that the manservant be sent to her. Unnoticed, Penny lingered to hear the interview.

The man came into the room. "You sent for me, Mrs. Kippenberg?" he inquired.

"Yes, Gregg. You were at the door when Mr. Atherwald arrived?"

"I was, Madam."

"I understand you handed him a note which he read."

"Yes, Madam."

"Who gave you the note?"

"Mrs. Latch, the cook. She told me it was brought to the kitchen door early this morning by a most disreputable looking boy."

"He had been hired to deliver it for another person, I suppose?"

"Yes, Madam. The boy told Mrs. Latch that the message came from a friend of Mr. Atherwald's and should be given to him as soon as he arrived."

"You have no idea what the note contained?"

"No, Mrs. Kippenberg, the envelope was sealed."

Sensing that when the interview ended Mrs. Kippenberg's wrath might again descend upon her, Penny decided not to tempt fate. While the woman was still talking with the servant, she slipped out of the house.

"Atherwald might have had that note sent to himself, but I doubt it," she told herself. "Either he is still on the estate, or the boatman would have had to take him back across the river."

She walked quickly down to the dock and was elated to find the guest launch tied up there. The boatman answered her questions readily. He had not seen Grant Atherwald since early in the afternoon. Salt was the only person he had taken back across the river.

"Have you noticed any other boat leaving the estate?" inquired Penny.

"Boats have been going up and down the river all day," the man answered with a shrug. "I didn't notice any particular one."

Penny glanced across the water. She could see Salt perched on the drawbridge waiting for her. But she was not yet ready to leave the estate.

Ignoring his shout to "come on," she turned and walked back toward the house. Deliberately, she chose the same path which she and Salt had followed earlier in the afternoon.

A swift walk brought her to the forbidden trail with the barrier sign. Penny glanced around to be certain she was not under observation. Then she stepped boldly over the wire.

Passing the place where she and Salt had talked with the gardener, she noticed his trowel lying on the ground. There was no evidence that he had done any work.

However, all along the path flowering shrubs were well trimmed and tended.

"So this part of the estate isn't fixed up," Penny mused. "It's much nicer than the other section in my opinion. I wonder why that gardener told so many lies?"

The path led deeper into the woods. Rustic benches invited one to linger, but Penny walked rapidly onward.

Unexpectedly, she came to a little clearing, and saw before her a large, circular pool. From a gap in the trees, warm sunshine poured down upon the bed of flowers which flanked the cement sides, making a circle of brilliant color.

"So this is where the path leads," thought Penny. "No mystery here after all."

She was at a loss to understand why this portion of the estate had been closed to visitors for certainly it was the most beautiful part. Yet there was a quality to the beauty which the girl did not like.

As she stood staring at the pool, she was fully aware of an uneasy feeling which had taken possession of her. It was almost as if she stood in the presence of something sinister and unknown. The gentle rustling of the tree leaves, the cool river air blowing against her cheek, only served to heighten the feeling.

She drew closer and peered down into the blue depths of the pool. She could not see the bottom plainly for the water was choked with a tangle of feathery plants. A few yellow lilies floated on the surface.

Penny absently reached out to pluck one. But as the stem snapped off, she gave a little scream and dropped the flower. She had seen a large, shadowy form slithering through the water beneath her.

Penny backed a step away from the pool. From among the lily pads an ugly head emerged and a broad snout was raised above the surface for an instant. Powerful jaws opened and closed, revealing jagged teeth set in deep pits.

"An alligator!" Penny exclaimed aloud. "Such a horrid, ugly creature! And to think, I nearly put my hand in that water."

She shivered and watched the movements of the alligator. Its head scooted smoothly over the water for a short distance. Then with a swish of its tail, the reptile submerged and the pool was as placid as before.

"Eight feet long if it's an inch," estimated Penny. "Why would any person in his right mind keep such a creature here? Why, it's dangerous."

She felt enraged, thinking how close she had come to touching the alligator. Yet justice compelled her to admit that she had only herself to blame. Deliberately, she had disregarded the warning not to explore the forbidden trail.

"The Kippenbergs keep nice pets," she thought ironically. "If anyone fell into that pool it would be just too bad."

Now that her curiosity was satisfied, Penny had not the slightest desire to linger near the lily pool. With another glance down into the murky depths she turned away, but she had taken less than a dozen steps when she paused. Her attention was held by a bright and shiny object which lay in the dust at her feet.

With a low cry of surprise she reached down and picked up a plain band of white gold. Obviously, it was a wedding ring.

"Now where did this come from?" Penny turned it over on the palm of her hand.

Startled thoughts leaped into her mind. She felt certain Grant Atherwald had taken this same path earlier in the afternoon. It was logical to believe that the ring had been his, intended for Sylvia Kippenberg. Had he lost the band accidentally or deliberately thrown it away?

Slowly, Penny's gaze roved to the lily pond. She noted that the coping was so low that one who walked carelessly might easily stumble and fall into the water. It made her shudder to think of such a gruesome possibility, yet she could not avoid giving it consideration. For that matter, Grant Atherwald might have been lured to this isolated spot. The mysterious message--

Penny delved no deeper into the problem for suddenly she felt someone grasp her arms. With a terrified cry she whirled about to face her assailant.

CHAPTER 7 _THE FORBIDDEN POOL_

A wave of relief surged over Penny as she saw that it was the old gardener who held her fast.

"Oh, it's only you," she laughed shakily, trying to pull away. "For a second I thought the Bogey Man had me for sure."

The gardener did not smile.

"Didn't I tell you to keep away from here?" he demanded, giving her a hard shake.

"I'm not doing any h-harm," Penny stammered. She kept her hand closed over the white gold ring so that the old man would not see what she had found. "I just wanted to learn what was back in here."

"And you found out?"

The gardener's tone warned Penny to be cautious in her reply.

"Oh, the pool is rather pretty," she answered carelessly. "But I've seen much nicer ones."

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a minute or two. I really came to search for Grant Atherwald."

"Atherwald? What would he be doing here?"

"He disappeared an hour or so ago," revealed Penny. "The servants have been searching everywhere for him."

"He disappeared?" the gardener repeated incredulously.

"Yes, it's very peculiar. Mr. Atherwald arrived at the estate in ample time for the wedding. But after he read a note which was delivered to him he walked off in this direction and was seen no more."

"Down this path, you mean?"

"I couldn't say as to that, but he started this way. I know because I saw him myself."

"Atherwald didn't come here," the gardener said with finality. "I've been working around the lily pond all afternoon and would have seen him."

Penny's fingers closed tightly about the white gold ring which she kept shielded from the man's gaze. In her opinion the trinket offered almost conclusive proof that the bridegroom had visited the locality. Because she could not trust the gardener she kept her thoughts strictly to herself.

The man stared down at his feet, obviously disturbed by the information Penny had given him.

"Do you suppose harm could have befallen Mr. Atherwald?" she asked after a moment.

"Harm?" he demanded irritably. "That's sheer nonsense. The fellow probably skipped out. He ought to be tarred and feathered!"

"And you would enjoy doing it?" Penny interposed slyly.

The gardener glared at her, making no attempt to hide his dislike.

"Such treatment would be too good for anyone who hurt Miss Sylvia. Now will you get out of here? I have my orders and I mean to enforce them."

"Oh, all right," replied Penny. "I was going anyway."

This was not strictly true, for had the gardener not been there she would have made a more thorough investigation of the locality near the lily pool. But now she had no hope of learning more, and so turned away.

Emerging from among the trees, she glanced toward the rose garden. Nearly all of the wedding guests had departed. Penny considered whether or not she should speak to Mrs. Kippenberg about finding the ring. Deciding against it, she joined a group of people at the boat dock and was ferried across the river.

Salt awaited her at the drawbridge.

"I just about gave you up," he complained. "It's time for us to get back to the office or our news won't be news. The wedding is definitely off?"

"Yes, Atherwald can't be found."

"We'll stop at a drug store and telephone," Salt said, pulling her toward the car. "Learn anything more after I left?"

"Well, I found a wedding ring and was nearly chewed up by an alligator," laughed Penny. "It seemed rather interesting at the time."

The photographer gave her a queer look as he started the automobile.

"Imagination and journalism never mix," he said.

"Does this look like imagination?" Penny countered, showing him the plain band ring.

"Where did you find it?"

"Beside a lily pond in the forbidden part of the estate. I feel certain it must have been dropped by Grant Atherwald."

"Thrown away?"

"I don't know exactly what to think," Penny replied soberly.

Salt steered the car into the main road which led back to Corbin. Then he inquired: "Did you notice any signs of a struggle? Grass trampled? Footprints?"

"I didn't have a chance to do any investigating. That bossy old gardener came and drove me away."

"What were you saying about alligators?"

"Salt, I saw one swimming around in the lily pool," Penny told him earnestly. "It was an ugly brute, at least twelve feet long."

"How long?"

"Well, eight anyway."

"You're joking."

"I am not," Penny said indignantly.

"Maybe it was only a big log lying in the water."

Penny gave an injured sniff. "Have it your own way. But it wasn't a log. I guess I can tell an alligator when I see one."

"If you're actually right," Salt said unmoved, "I'd like to have snapped a picture of it. You know, this story might develop into something big."

"I have a feeling it will, Salt."

"If Atherwald really has disappeared it should create a sensation!"

"And if the poor fellow had the misfortune to fall or be pushed into the lily pool Dad wouldn't have headlines large enough to carry it!"

"Say, get a grip on yourself," Salt advised. "The _Riverview Star_ prints fact, not fancy."

"That's because so many of Dad's reporters are stodgy old fellows," laughed Penny. "But I'll admit it isn't very likely Grant Atherwald was devoured by the alligator."

The car had reached Corbin. Salt drew up in front of a drug store.

"Run in and telephone DeWitt," he said, opening the door for her. "And remember, stick to facts."

Penny was a little frightened as she entered the telephone booth and placed a long distance call to the _Riverview Star_. She never failed to feel nervous when she talked with DeWitt, the city editor, for he was not a very pleasant individual.

She jumped as the receiver was taken down and a voice barked: "City desk."

"This is Penny Parker over at Corbin," she began weakly.

"Can't hear you," snapped DeWitt. "Talk up."

Penny repeated her name and DeWitt's voice lost some of its edge. Gathering courage, she started to tell him what she had learned at the Kippenberg estate.

"Hold it," interrupted DeWitt. "I'll switch you over to a rewrite man."

The connection was made and Penny began a second time. Now and then the rewrite man broke into the narrative to ask a question.

"All right, I think I have it all," he said finally and hung up.

Penny went back to the car looking as crestfallen as she felt.

"I don't know what they thought of the story," she told Salt. "DeWitt certainly didn't waste any words of praise."

"He never does," chuckled the photographer. "You're lucky if you don't get fired."

"That's one consolation," returned Penny, settling herself for the long ride home. "He can't fire me. Being the editor's daughter has its advantages."

The regular night edition of the _Riverview Star_ was on the street by the time they reached the city. Salt signaled a newsboy and bought a paper while the car waited for a traffic light. He tossed it over to Penny.

"Here it is! My story!" she cried, and then her face fell.

"What's the matter?" asked Salt. "Did they garble it all up?"

"They've cut it down to three inches! And not a word about the alligator or the lost wedding ring! I could cry! Why, I told that rewrite man enough to fill at least a column!"

"Well, anyway you made the front page," the photographer consoled. "They may build the story up in the next edition after they get my pictures."

Penny said nothing, remaining in deep gloom during the remainder of the ride to the _Star_ office. Salt let her out at the front door. She debated for a moment whether or not to go on home, but finally entered the building.

DeWitt was busy at his desk as she walked stiffly past. She hoped that he would notice how she ignored him, but he did not glance up from the copy before him.

Penny opened the door of her father's private office and stopped short.

"Why, Dad?" she cried. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home in bed."

"I finally persuaded the doctor to let me out," Anthony Parker replied, swinging around in his swivel chair. "How did you get along with your assignment?"

"I thought I did very well," Penny said aloofly. "But from now on I'll not telephone anything in. I'll write the story myself."

"Now don't blame DeWitt or the rewrite man," said Mr. Parker, smiling. "A paper has to be careful in what it publishes, especially about a wedding. Alligators are a bit too--shall we say sensational?"

"You made a similar remark about witch dolls," Penny reminded him.

"I did eat my words that time," Mr. Parker admitted, "but this is different. If we build up a big story about Grant Atherwald's disappearance, and then tomorrow he shows up at his own home, we'll appear pretty ridiculous."

"I guess you're right," Penny said, turning away. "Well, I'm happy to see you back in the office again."

Mr. Parker watched her speculatively. When she reached the door he inquired: "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What, Dad?"

"Today is Thursday." The editor took a sealed envelope from the desk drawer. "This is the first time you have failed to collect your allowance in over a year."

"I must be slipping." Penny grinned as she pocketed the envelope.

"Why don't you open it?"

"What's the use?" Penny asked gloomily. "It's always the same. Anyway, I borrowed two dollars last week so this doesn't really belong to me."

"You might be pleasantly surprised."

Penny stared at her father with disbelief. "Dad! You don't mean you've given me a raise!"

Eagerly, she ripped open the envelope. Three crisp dollar bills fluttered into her hand. With a shriek of delight, Penny flung her arms about her father's neck.

"I always try to reward a good reporter," he chuckled. "Now take yourself off because my work is stacked a mile high."

Penny tripped gaily toward the door but it opened before she could cross the room. An office boy came in with a message for Mr. Parker.

"Man to see you named Atherwald," he announced.

The name produced an electrifying effect upon both Penny and her father.

"Atherwald!" Mr. Parker exclaimed. "Then he hasn't disappeared after all! Show him in."

"And I'm staying right here," Penny declared, easing herself into the nearest chair. "I have a hunch that this interview may concern me."

CHAPTER 8 _PARENTAL PROTEST_

In a few minutes the office boy returned, followed by a distinguished, middle-aged man who carried a cane. Penny gave him an astonished glance for she had expected to see Grant Atherwald. It had not occurred to her that there might be two persons with the same surname.

"Mr. Atherwald?" inquired her father, waving the visitor into a chair.

"James Atherwald."