The pilot gave no sign that he had heard. Instead, he speeded up the boat which passed beneath the drawbridge and went on down the river.
CHAPTER
3
GIFT TO THE BRIDE
“Perhaps he didn’t hear you,” said Penny, peering after the retreating boat.
“He heard me all right,” growled Salt as he scrambled back up the high bank.
Noticing a small boy in dirty overalls who sat at the water’s edge fishing, he called to him: “Say, sonny, who was that fellow, do you know?”
“Nope,” answered the boy, barely turning his head, “but his boat has been going up and down the river all morning. That’s why I can’t catch anything.”
The boat rounded a bend of the river and was lost to view. Only one other craft appeared on the water, a freshly painted white motor launch which could be seen coming from the far shore.
“That must be the guest boat now,” remarked Penny, shading her eyes against the glare of the sun. “It seems to be our only hope.”
“Let’s try to get aboard and see what happens,” proposed the photographer.
They walked leisurely back toward the guard at the drawbridge, timing their arrival just as the launch swung up to the landing. With a cool assurance which Penny tried to duplicate, Salt stepped aboard, nodded indifferently to the wheelsman, and slumped down in one of the leather seats.