“Guess maybe you’re right at that,” Jerry acknowledged.
As she saw that the reporter was rapidly recovering strength, Penny left him to the care of her father and went forward to speak with Harry Griffith.
“Where are we now?” she inquired.
“Just comin’ to the Kippenberg estate,” he told her.
“Only that far? We don’t seem to be making very fast time.”
“We’re buckin’ the current, Miss. And there’s a right stiff wind blowing.”
She had not noticed the wind before or how overcast the sky had become. One could not see many yards in advance of the boat.
Ahead loomed the drawbridge in open position as usual. But Penny could not see the red lantern which she had noticed upon the trip down. Had the light been blown out by the wind?
In any case, it would not greatly matter, she reflected. Few cars traveled the private road. And any person who came that way would likely know about the bridge.
And then, above the steady hum of the motor boat engine, Penny heard another roar which steadily increased in intensity. A car was coming down the road at great speed!