“Not a very good one,” Penny admitted. “It looked like one of Ottman’s rented boats with an outboard attached. In fact, Louise and I saw a similar craft earlier in the evening which was cruising not far from the bridge.”
“Then you think the saboteur may have rented his boat from Ottman’s?”
“Well, it’s a possibility.”
“You’ve given us some good stuff!” the rewrite man praised. “DeWitt’s getting out an extra. Shoot us any new facts as soon as you can.”
“Dad’s on the job full blast,” Penny answered. “He’ll soon have all the details for you.”
Slamming out of the telephone booth, she ran back to the bridge. Her father no longer directed traffic, but had turned the task over to a pompous motorist who thoroughly enjoyed his authority.
“You can’t cross, young lady,” he said as she sought to pass him. “Bridge’s unsafe.”
“I’m a reporter for the Star,” Penny replied confidently.
The man stared at her bedraggled clothing. “A reporter?” he inquired dubiously.
Just then a police car, its siren shrilling, sped up to the bridge. Close behind came another car which bore a printed card “Star” on its windshield. It braked to a standstill nearby and out leaped two young men, Jerry Livingston and Salt Sommers.