“He can’t have gone far,” said Salt. “We should be able to find him.”
However, an intensive search of the bushes nearby did not reveal the missing youth. At last, in desperation, Penny called his name several times.
“Please, Tony, give yourself up!” she pleaded. “You won’t be sent back to Italy! I’m sure of it! Please come out of hiding!”
“If that appeal doesn’t fetch him, nothing will,” said Salt. “We’ve held up the party too long now, Penny. We’ve got to shove off.”
Penny nodded disconsolately. When the photographer took her arm and started back toward the waiting boats, she did not resist.
But after they had gone a few yards, she abruptly halted.
“Tony is close by!” she insisted. “I can feel that he’s watching us now! Listen! Don’t you hear the bushes rustling?”
“I do hear something. Maybe it’s only an animal.”
“Tony,” Penny made one last appeal, “if you’re back there in the dark, please come out. Don’t you understand? You were a hero tonight—you saved the day by popping out of the bushes at just the right moment. Please don’t fail me now.”
The leaves were stirring again. Then, to Penny’s joy, the branches parted. Grinning sheepishly, Tony shuffled out.