His grasp was loose. Penny ducked out of it but held fast to his hand. She braced her feet against the body of the car and pushed. They both shot upward to the surface.
Griffith and her father lifted the man out of the water into the motor boat.
“Have to go down again,” Penny gasped. “There may be others.”
She dived once more, doubling herself into a tight ball, and giving a quick, upthrust of her feet which sent her straight to the bottom. She swam into the car and groped about on the seat and floor. Finding no bodies, she quickly shot to the surface again. Her father pulled her over the side, saying curtly: “Good work, Penny.”
The victim she had saved seemed little the worse for his ducking. With Griffith’s help he had divested himself of his heavy coat and was wringing it out.
Penny had obtained no clear view of the man, nor did she ever, for just at that moment, Jerry raised himself to a sitting position. He stared at the bedraggled one and pointed an accusing finger.
“That’s the fellow!” he cried in an excited voice. “The one I was telling you about—”
The man took one look at Jerry and gazed quickly about. By this time the motor boat had drifted close to shore. Before anyone could make a move to stop him, the man hurled himself overboard. He landed on his feet in shallow water. Splashing through to the shore, he scuttled up the steep bank and disappeared in the darkness.
“Don’t let him get away!” shouted Jerry. “He’s the same fellow I saw in the woods!”
“You’re certain?” asked Mr. Parker doubtfully.