The girls could hear no movement behind them as they darted down the path. They dared to hope that they had eluded the old gardener.

Then as they came within sight of the river, Louise stumbled over a vine. Although she stifled an outcry the dull thud of her body against the ground seemed actually to reverberate through the forest. A black crow on the lower limb of an oak tree cawed in protest before he flew away.

Penny pulled Louise to her feet and they went on as fast as they could, but they knew the sound had betrayed them. Now they could hear the man in pursuit, his heavy shoes pounding on the hard, dry path.

“Run!” Penny commanded.

They reached the river bank and looked about for the boat which would take them across. As they had feared it was on the opposite shore.

Penny gestured frantically, but the boy did not understand the need for haste. He picked up his oars and rowed toward them at a very deliberate pace.
[130]

“Oh, he’ll never get here in time,” Louise murmured fearfully. “Shall we hide?”

“That’s all we can do.”

They realized then that they had waited too long. Before they could dodge into the deeper thicket the gardener reached the clearing.

“So it’s you again!” he cried wrathfully, glaring at Penny.

“Please, we didn’t mean any harm. We can explain—”

“This stick is explanation enough for me!” the man shouted, waving it above his head. “You were trying to find out about the lily pool!”

“We were only trying to get a pin which I dropped into the water,” Louise said, backing a step away.

“I don’t believe you!” the man snapped. “You can’t fool me! I know why you came here, and you’ll pay for your folly! You’ll never take the secret away with you!”

With a swift, animal-like spring which belied his age, the gardener hurled himself toward the girls. He seized Penny’s arm giving it a cruel twist.

“You’re coming along with me,” he announced harshly.

“Let me go!” Penny cried, trying to free herself.

“You’re going with me to the house. You’ve been altogether too prying. Now you’ll take your punishment, both of you.”
[131]

The gardener might have managed Penny alone, but he was no match for two athletic girls. As he tried to seize Louise, Penny twisted free.

Quick as a flash, she grasped the man’s felt hat, jamming it down on his head over his eyes. While he was trying to pull it off, Louise also wriggled from his grasp.

The two girls ran to the water’s edge. Their boat had drawn close to shore. Without waiting for it to beach they waded out over their shoetops and climbed aboard.

“Don’t either of you ever come here again!” the gardener hurled after them. “If you do—”

The rest of the threat was carried away by the wind. However, Penny could not resist waving her hand and calling back: “Bye, bye, old timer! We’ll be seeing you!”

“What’s the matter with that man anyhow?” asked the boy who rowed the boat. “Didn’t he want you on the estate?”

“On the contrary, he invited us to remain and we declined,” grinned Penny. “Just temperament, that’s all. He can’t make up his mind which way he would like to have it.”

Allowing the boy to puzzle over the remark, she busied herself pouring water from her sodden shoes. The visit to the estate had not turned out at all as she had planned. She had failed to talk with Miss Kippenberg, and it was almost certain that from now on servants would keep a much closer watch for intruders.
[132]

The only vital information she had gleaned resulted from overhearing the conversation between Sylvia Kippenberg and the gardener.

“She talked with him as if they were well acquainted,” mused Penny. “Miss Kippenberg must have thought he knew more about Grant Atherwald’s disappearance than he would tell. And she seems to be afraid the Law will ask too many questions. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have suggested getting rid of the alligator.”

One additional observation Penny had made, but she decided not to speak of it until she and Louise were alone.

The boat reached shore and the two girls stepped out on the muddy bank.

“Will you need me again?” inquired the boy.

“I may,” said Penny, “and I can’t tell you exactly when. Where do you keep your boat?”

“Up the river just beyond that crooked maple tree. I hide it in the bushes and I keep the oars inside a hollow log close by. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”

Penny and Louise said goodbye to the lad and scrambled up the bank.
[133]

“I’m sure I’ll not be going back to that place,” the latter declared emphatically. “I just wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t broken away.”

“We might have been locked up in the stone tower,” Penny laughed. “Then another one of my theories would have proven itself.”

“Oh, you and your theories! You can’t make me believe that gardener didn’t mean to harm us. He was a very sinister character.”

“Sinister is a strong word, Lou. But I’ll agree he’s not any ordinary gardener. Either he’s been hired by the Kippenberg family for a very special purpose or else he’s gained their confidence and means to bend them to his own ends.”

“His own ends! Why, Penny, what do you mean? Have you learned something you haven’t told me?”

“Only this. I’m satisfied Old Peter is no gardener. He’s wearing a disguise.”

“Well, what won’t you think of next! You’ve been reading too many detective stories, Penny Parker.”

“Have I? Then there’s no need to tell you—”

“Yes, there is,” Louise cut in. “Your ideas are pretty imaginative, but I like to hear them anyway.”

“Considerate of you, old thing,” Penny drawled in her best imitation of an English accent. “You don’t deserve to be told after that crack, but I’ll do it anyhow. When I pulled the gardener’s hat down over his eyes, I felt something slip!”

“Maybe it was his skin peeling off.”
[134]

“He wore a wig,” Penny said soberly. “That’s why he looked so startled when I jerked the hat.”

“Did you actually see a wig?”

“No, but he must have had one on his head. I felt it give, I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that fellow. But if he isn’t a gardener, then who or what is he?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to do some intensive investigation.”

“Just how, may I ask?”

Penny gazed speculatively toward the drawbridge, noting that the old watchman had been deserted by the group of reporters. He sat alone, legs crossed, his camp stool propped against the side of the gearhouse.

“Let’s talk with him, Lou. He might be able to tell us something about the different employees of the estate.&rdqu............