Part 32 (1/2)

”If I can get up there I might be able to see what is going on inside,”

she thought.

Even on tiptoe she could not reach the window. Going down to the river she found an old orange crate which had washed up on the bank.

Carrying it back to the window she set it underneath and climbed up.

She peered into the building. The window opened directly into a dark, deserted little room, but directly beyond she could observe several men moving about. It was impossible to see what they were doing.

Thinking that perhaps she might overhear their conversation, she pried at the window. To her surprise it was readily raised.

But she could hear only a low murmur of voices. It was impossible to distinguish a single phrase.

”I might just as well be a million miles away as here,” she told herself. ”I have a notion to climb inside.”

Penny took after her father in that she seldom experienced the sensation of fear. She knew well enough that she was taking a grave risk in entering the building, yet if she were to learn anything which would aid Mr. Nichols in his case against the automobile accessory thieves, she must be courageous.

Naturally agile, Penny raised herself to the ledge by sheer strength of her arms. She hesitated an instant, then dropped lightly down inside the sawmill.

She moved a few steps forward, then returned to quietly close the window. While it cut off her escape, she realized that the open window would be a telltale sign should anyone notice it.

She crept toward the adjoining main room from whence came the low murmur of voices. Secreting herself behind a tall pile of old sawed boards, she peered through the doorway.

The truck had pulled up at one side of the room. Several rough looking men were engaged in unloading the wheels. Penny's eyes fastened upon the man who directed the others. It was Rap Molberg.

”Get a move on!” he ordered tersely. ”We can't stall around all night.”

The wheels were trundled out one by one from the rear end of the truck, and the men, six in all, fell to work with their tools, defacing the serial numbers and subst.i.tuting others. Penny watched in fascination.

Her gaze wandered to Jerry Barrows who had driven the truck to the sawmill. He sat apart, apparently taking no interest in what was going on.

Somewhere in the building a telephone rang. As one of the men came toward her, Penny shrank down behind the pile of lumber. He pa.s.sed so close that she could have reached out and touched him had she chosen.

The man went into a small anteroom and Penny heard him answer the telephone. She could not distinguish the words, but presently he returned to the main room.

”It was the big boss,” he reported to Rap Molberg. ”He called from Somm Center.”

”What's he doing there?” Rap demanded irritably. ”Doesn't he think I'm capable of handling this end?”

”He's on his way here now,” the other informed. ”He says he has a hot tip that Christopher Nichols is wise to our hideout!”

”That snooper!” Molberg snarled. ”I should have known he was up to something when he left town so suddenly.”

”The cops may be down on us any minute.”

”Then we're getting out of here without leaving any evidence behind!”

Molberg snapped. ”Get busy, men!”

All fell to work with a will save Jerry Barrows.

”You!” Rap shouted angrily. ”This is no time for loafing!”