The girls were not to enjoy their porthole for long. Within a few minutes the waiter tacked a strip of canvas over the opening. He then sat down on deck directly beneath it, and the odor of his cigar drifted into the room.
“That man must be Jard Wessler,” Penny whispered to her chum. “You remember Bill said he was hired to work for a fellow by the name of Wessler.”
“I don’t care who he is,” muttered Louise. “All I think about is getting out of here.”
The girls sat side by side, their backs to the wall. About them in boxes and cages, Noah’s birds stirred restlessly. Polly, the parrot, kept up such a chatter that at length Penny covered the cage with a sack.
Time passed slowly. It seemed hours later that Penny and Louise heard the sound of a man’s voice. The cry, though low, came from shore.
“Ark ahoy! Are you there, Wessler?”
“Come aboard,” invited the one in command of the boat. “Oaks told you what happened?”
“Yeah, and I have more bad news.” The newcomer had reached the ark and his voice could be heard plainly by Louise and Penny. “A searching party is out looking for those two girls. Heading this way too.”
“In that case—”
The door of the bird room suddenly was thrust open and a flashbeam focused upon the girls. They found themselves confronted by Jard Wessler and a stranger. At least Penny’s first thought was that she had never seen him before. Then it came to her that he closely resembled the man with whom Burt Ottman had dined at The Green Parrot.