Danger at the Drawbridge Read online

  CHAPTER 3 _GIFT TO THE BRIDE_

  "Perhaps he didn't hear you," said Penny, peering after the retreatingboat.

  "He heard me all right," growled Salt as he scrambled back up the highbank.

  Noticing a small boy in dirty overalls who sat at the water's edgefishing, he called to him: "Say, sonny, who was that fellow, do youknow?"

  "Nope," answered the boy, barely turning his head, "but his boat has beengoing up and down the river all morning. That's why I can't catchanything."

  The boat rounded a bend of the river and was lost to view. Only one othercraft appeared on the water, a freshly painted white motor launch whichcould be seen coming from the far shore.

  "That must be the guest boat now," remarked Penny, shading her eyesagainst the glare of the sun. "It seems to be our only hope."

  "Let's try to get aboard and see what happens," proposed thephotographer.

  They walked leisurely back toward the guard at the drawbridge, timingtheir arrival just as the launch swung up to the landing. With a coolassurance which Penny tried to duplicate, Salt stepped aboard, noddedindifferently to the wheelsman, and slumped down in one of the leatherseats.

  Penny waited uneasily for embarrassing questions which did not come.Gradually she relaxed as the boatman took no interest in them and theguard's attention was fully occupied with other cars which had driven upto the drawbridge.

  A few minutes later, two elderly women, both elegantly gowned, werehelped aboard the boat by their chauffeur. One of the women stareddisapprovingly at Salt through her lorgnette and then ignored him.

  "We'll get by all right," Salt whispered confidently.

  "Wait until Mrs. Kippenberg sees us," warned Penny.

  "Oh, we'll keep out of her way until we have our story and plenty ofpictures. Once we're across the river it will be easy."

  "I hope you're right," muttered Penny.

  While Salt's task of taking pictures might prove relatively simple, sherealized that her own work would be anything but easy. She could not hopeto gather many facts without talking to a member of the family, and theinstant she admitted her identity she likely would be ejected from thegrounds.

  "I boasted I'd bring in a front page story," she thought ruefully. "I'llbe lucky if I get a column of routine stuff."

  The boat was moving slowly away from the landing when the guard at thedrawbridge called in a loud voice: "Hold it, Joe!"

  Penny and Salt stiffened in their chairs, fearing they were to beexposed. But they were both greatly relieved to see that a long, blacklimousine had drawn up at the end of the road. The launch had beenstopped so that additional passengers might be accommodated.

  Salt nudged Penny's elbow.

  "Grant Atherwald," he contributed, jerking his head toward a tall,well-built young man who had stepped from the car. "I've seen his pictureplenty of times."

  "The bridegroom?" Penny turned to stare.

  "Sure. He's one of the blue-bloods, but they say he's a little short onready cash."

  The young man, dressed immaculately in formal day attire, and accompaniedby two other men, came aboard the launch. He bowed politely to theelderly women and his gaze fell questioningly upon Penny and Salt. But ifhe wondered why they were there, he did not voice his thought.

  As the boat put out across the river Penny watched Grant Atherwaldcuriously. It seemed to her that he appeared nervous and preoccupied. Hestared straight before him, clenching and unclenching his hands. His facewas colorless and drawn.

  "He's nervous and worried," thought Penny. "I guess all bridegrooms arelike that."

  A sharp "click" sounded in her ear. Penny did not turn toward Salt, butshe caught her breath, knowing what he had done. He had dared to take apicture of Grant Atherwald!

  She waited, feeling certain that the sound must have been heard byeveryone in the boat. A full minute elapsed and no one spoke. When Pennyfinally glanced at Salt he was gazing serenely out across the muddywater, his miniature camera shielded behind a felt hat which he held onhis knees.

  The boat docked. Salt and Penny allowed the others to go ashore first,and then followed a narrow walk which wound through a deep lane ofevergreen trees.

  "Salt," Penny asked abruptly, "how did you get that picture ofAtherwald?"

  "Snapped it through a hole in the crown of my hat. It's an old trick. Ialways wear this special hat when I'm sent out on a hard assignment."

  "I thought a cannon had gone off when the shutter clicked," Pennylaughed. "We were lucky you weren't caught."

  Emerging from behind the trees, they obtained their first view of theKippenberg house. Sturdily built of brick and stone, it stood upon aslight hill, its many turrets and towers commanding a view of the tworivers.

  "Nice layout," Salt commented, pausing to snap a second picture. "Wishsomeone would give me a castle for a playhouse."

  They crossed the moat and found themselves directly behind GrantAtherwald again. Before the bridegroom could enter the house a servantstepped forward and handed him a sealed envelope.

  "I was told to give this to you as soon as you arrived, sir," he said.

  Grant Atherwald nodded, and taking the letter, quickly opened it. Atroubled expression came over his face as he scanned the message. Withouta word he thrust the paper into his pocket. Turning, he walked swiftlytoward the garden.

  "Salt, did you notice how queerly Atherwald looked--" Penny began, butthe photographer interrupted her.

  "Listen," he said, "we haven't a Chinaman's chance of getting in thefront door. That boy in the fancy knickers is giving everyone the onceover. Let's try a side entrance."

  Without attracting attention they walked quickly around the house andlocated a door where no servant had been posted. Entering, they passedthrough a marble-floored vestibule into a breakfast room crowded withserving tables. Salt nonchalantly helped himself to an olive from one ofthe large glass dishes and led Penny on toward the main hall where manyof the guests had gathered to admire the wedding gifts.

  "Now don't swipe any of the silver," Salt said jokingly. "I think thatfellow over by the stairway is a private detective."

  "He seems to be looking at us with a suspicious gleam in his eyes," Pennyreplied. "I hope we don't get tossed out of here."

  "We'll be all right if Mrs. Kippenberg doesn't see us before theceremony."

  "Do you suppose Mr. Kippenberg could be here, Salt?"

  "Not likely. It's my guess that fellow will never be seen again."

  "Dad doesn't share your opinion."

  "I know," Salt admitted. "We'll keep watch for him, but it would just bea lucky break if it turns out he's here."

  Mingling with the guests, they walked slowly about a long table where thewedding gifts were displayed. Penny gazed curiously at dishes of solidsilver, crystal bowls, candlesticks, jade ornaments, tea sets and serviceplates encrusted with gold.

  "Nothing trashy here," muttered Salt.

  "I've never seen such an elegant display," Penny whispered in awe. "Doyou suppose that picture is one of the gifts?"

  She indicated an oil painting which stood on an easel not far from thetable. So many guests had gathered about the picture that she could notsee it distinctly. But at her elbow, a woman in rustling silk, said to acompanion:

  "My dear, a genuine Van Gogh! It must have cost a small fortune!"

  When the couple had moved aside, Penny and Salt drew closer to the easel.One glance assured them that the painting had been executed by a master.However, it was the subject of the picture which gave Penny a distinctstart.

  "Will you look at that!" she whispered to Salt.

  "What about it?" he asked carelessly.

  "Don't you notice anything significant?"

  "Can't say I do. It's just a nice picture of a drawbridge."

  "That's just the point, Salt!" Penny's eyes danced with excitement. "Adrawbridge!"

  The photographer glanced again at the painti
ng, this time with deeperinterest.

  "Say, it looks a lot like the bridge which was built over the river," heobserved. "You think this picture is a copy of it?"

  Penny shook her head impatiently. "Salt, your knowledge of art isdreadful. This Van Gogh was painted ages ago and is priceless. Don't yousee, the drawbridge has to be a copy of the picture?"

  "Your theory sounds reasonable," Salt admitted. "I wonder who gave thepainting to the bride? There's no name attached."

  "Can't you guess why?"

  "I never was good at kid games."

  "Why, it's clear as crystal," Penny declared, keeping her voice low."This estate with the drawbridge was built by Clayton Kippenberg. He musthave been familiar with the Van Gogh painting, and had the real bridgemodeled after the picture. For that matter, the painting may have been inhis possession--"

  "Then you think the picture was presented to Sylvia Kippenberg by herfather?" Salt broke in quickly.

  "Yes, I do. Only a person very close to the bride would have given such agift."

  "H-m," said Salt, squinting at the picture thoughtfully. "If you're rightit means that Clayton Kippenberg's whereabouts must be known to hisfamily. His disappearance may not be such a deep mystery to MammaKippenberg and daughter Sylvia."

  "Oh, Salt, wouldn't it make a grand story if only we could learn whatbecame of him?"

  "Sure. Front page stuff."

  "We simply must get the story somehow! If Mrs. Kippenberg would justanswer our questions about this drawbridge painting--"

  "I'm afraid Mamma Kippenberg isn't going to break down and tell all,"Salt said dryly. "But buckle on your steel armor, little girl, becausehere she comes now!"