“Thorny probably isn’t on duty at this hour,” Penny reflected. “But I should think an open drawbridge might prove more dangerous at night than in the daytime.”
As the bridge was lost to view beyond a bend in the river, she gave all her attention to watching the coves and inlets. Her father sat hunched over in the seat beside her, slapping at mosquitoes. Now and then he would switch on the flashlight to look at his watch.
Gradually the river had widened, so that it was possible to cover only one shore.
“We’ll search the other side on our return trip,” Mr. Parker said. “But it looks to me as if we’re not going to have any luck.”
As if to add to the discouragement of the party, dark clouds began to edge across the sky. One by one the stars were inked out. Penny’s light coat offered scant protection from the cold wind.
And then, Harry Griffith throttled down the motor and spun the wheel sharply to starboard. He leaned forward, trying to pierce the black void ahead of the boat’s bright beam.
“Looks like something over there,” he said pointing. “Might be a log. No, it’s a boat.”
“I can’t see anyone in it!” Penny cried. “It’s drifting with the current.”
“That looks like one of my boats, sure as you’re born,” Griffith declared, idling the engine. “The same I rented the young feller this morning.”
“But where is Jerry?” cried Penny.