“Aren’t you staying for dinner?” the old man asked in disappointment. “I’m fryin’ up a nice catfish.”
“I’m afraid we can’t remain today,” Penny answered. “Another time perhaps.” Using a long, hooked pole, Old Noah retrieved the drifting gangplank and refastened it to the ark.
“Farewell, my daughters,” he said regretfully as he bade them goodbye. “You and your friends always will be welcome to take refuge in my ark. The Great Flood is coming soon, but you are among the chosen.”
Feeling decidedly exhilarated by their meeting with such a strange character, Louise and Penny followed the twisting stream to the main river channel. Water was rising rapidly along the banks and at many places, bushes and tree branches dipped low in the swirling eddies.
“You know, if these spring rains keep up, Noah may get his big flood after all,” Penny remarked. “Poor old fellow! He certainly sealed the fate of his ark when he pushed Sheriff Anderson into Bug Run.”
Turning homeward toward the Thompson Bridge, the girls soon approached the river bank where police had searched for the escaped saboteur. Curious to see the locality by daylight, they detoured slightly in order to pass it.
“This is the place,” Penny said, indicating ground which had been trampled by many feet. “At the rate the river rises, the shore here will be under by tomorrow.”
“I suppose police learned everything they could last night.”
“Yes, they went over the area rather thoroughly,” Penny nodded. “I know they took photographs and made measurements of the saboteur’s footprints. Lucky they did, because the water has washed them all away.”
“You still can see where the automobile was parked,” Louise declared, pointing to tire tracks in the soft earth. “Were any real clues found, Penny?”