“No one here except the animals,” Oaks reported, reappearing on deck. “The only room that can be locked off is the cabin where the dope keeps his birds.”
“That ought to do,” decided the waiter. “We won’t have to keep ’em here long.”
Penny and Louise were compelled to march across the gangplank, up the steps to the bird room of the ark. The parrot, arousing from a doze, squawked a raucous welcome.
“Get in there and don’t make any noise!” the waiter ordered. “If you shout for help or make any disturbance, you’ll be bound and gagged. And that’s not pleasant. Get me?”
“You seem to have got us,” Penny retorted.
The door slammed and a bolt slid into place. Penny tiptoed at once to the porthole. It was much too small to permit an escape, but at least it provided fresh air and a view of the shore.
“Well, well, well,” cackled the parrot, tramping up and down on his wide perch. “Polly wants a slug o’ rum.”
“You’ll get a slug, period, if you don’t keep quiet,” Penny said crossly. “Give me a chance to think, will you?”
“Thinking won’t get us out of this mess,” murmured Louise, sitting down with her back to a wall. “It must be after nine o’clock now. If Bill had notified our folks, they would be looking for us long before this.”
In whispers the girls discussed their unfortunate situation. They were hopeful that eventually they would be released, but they could not expect freedom until long after midnight.