Guilt of the Brass Thieves by Mildred Augustine Wirt (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📖

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