The policemen started at a run through the woods toward the place where the white cruiser had last been seen. Penny hesitated, and then took the opposite direction, coming out of the woods at a point directly opposite the drawbridge.
Gazing far up the river she could see the white cruiser, flashes of fire coming from the cabin window as the desperadoes exchanged shots with the police, who were concealed in the woods.
“That boat will try to run for it in another minute,” Penny thought. “If only the drawbridge were down!”
Kicking off her shoes, she dived into the water, swimming diagonally across the river to take advantage of the swift current. Her powerful strokes brought her to shallow water and she waded ashore through ankle-deep mud. As she scrambled up the slippery bank, her wet clothing plastered to her body, she heard the roar of the cruiser’s motor.
“They’ve started the engine!” she thought. “In another minute the boat will be at the bridge. Hurry! Hurry!”
Penny could force herself to no greater effort. Breathless, she reached the gearhouse and groped frantically under the door. Had Thorny failed to hide the key there? No, her fingers seized upon it.
Trembling with excitement, she turned it in the lock. The door of the gearhouse swung open. Now could she remember how to lower the bridge? Any mistake would be costly, for by this time she could hear the cruiser racing down the river at full speed. If only it were light enough so that she could see the gears!
She pulled a lever and her heart leaped as the motor responded with a pleasant purr. The power was on!
“Now to lower the bridge!” thought Penny. “But which lever is the right one? I’m not sure.”
With a prayer in her heart she grasped the one closest at hand and eased it forward. There was a grinding of gears as the tall cantilevers began to move. They were coming down, but oh, so slowly!