Signal in the Dark Part 10

The man stared at him and did not answer.

Observing that Ben was shivering from cold, and that the stranger too was severely chilled, Penny proposed calling either the rescue squad or an ambulance.

"Not on your life," muttered the rescued man, trying to get up. "I'm okay, and I'm getting out of here."

With Ben's help, he managed to struggle to his feet, but they buckled under him when he tried to walk.

The man looked surprised.

"We'll have to call the rescue squad," Penny decided firmly.

"I have a better idea," Ben supplied. "We can take him to my shack."

Penny thought that the man should have hospital treatment. However, he sided with Ben, insisting he could walk to the nearby shack.

"I'm okay," he repeated again. "All I need is some dry clothes."

Supported on either side, the man managed to walk to the shack. Ben unlatched the door and hastily lighting an oil lamp, helped the fellow to the bed where he collapsed.

"Ben, I think we should have a doctor--" Penny began again, but Ben silenced her with a quick look.

Drawing her to the door he whispered: "Let him have his way. He's not badly off, and he has reason for not wanting anyone to know what happened. If we call the rescue squad or a doctor, he'll have to answer to a lot of questions."

"There are some things I'd like to know myself."

"We'll get the answers if we're patient. Now stay outside for a minute or two until I can get his clothes changed, and into dry ones myself."

Penny stepped outside the shack. A chill wind blew from the direction of the river, but with its freshness was blended the disagreeable odor of factory smoke, fish houses and dumpings of refuse.

"Poor Ben!" she thought. "He never should be living in such a place as this! No matter what he's done, he deserves another chance."

Exactly what she believed about the reporter, Penny could not have said.

His courageous act had aroused her deep admiration. On the other hand, she was aware that his story regarding Jason Cordell might have been highly colored to cover his own shortcomings.

Within a few minutes Ben opened the door to let her in again. The stranger had been put to bed in a pair of the reporter's pajamas which were much too small for him. In the dim light from the oil lamp, she saw that he had a large, square-shaped face, with a tiny scar above his right eye. It was not a pleasant face. Gazing at him, Penny felt a tiny chill pa.s.s over her.

Ben also had changed his clothes. He busied himself starting a fire in the rusty old stove, and once he had a feeble blaze, hung up all the garments to dry.

The room was so barren that Penny tried not to give an appearance of noticing. There was only a table, one chair, the sagging bed, and a shelf with a few cracked dishes.

"I'll get along with him all right," Ben said, obviously expecting Penny to leave.

She refused to take the hint. Instead she said: "This man will either have to go to a hospital or stay here all night. He's in no condition to walk anywhere."

"He can have my bed tonight," Ben said. "I'll manage."

The stranger's intent eyes fastened first upon Penny and then Ben. But not a word of grat.i.tude did he speak.

"You'll need more blankets and food," Penny said, thinking aloud. "I can get them from Mrs. Weems."

"Please don't bother," Ben said stiffly. "We'll get along."

Though rebuffed, Penny went over to the bedside. Instantly she saw a bruise on the stranger's forehead and a sizeable swollen place.

"Why, he must have struck his head!" she exclaimed, then corrected herself. "But he didn't strike anything that we saw. Ben, he must have been slugged while aboard the _Snark_!"

The stranger turned so that he looked directly into the girl's clear blue eyes. "Nuts!" he said emphatically.

"Our guest doesn't seem to care to discuss the little affair," Ben commented dryly. "I wonder why? He escaped drowning by only a few breaths."

"Listen," said the stranger, hitching up on an elbow. "You fished me out of the water, but that don't give you no right to put me through the third degree. My business is my business--see!"

"Who are you?" demanded Penny.

She thought he would refuse to answer, but after a moment he said curtly: "James Webster."

Both Penny and Ben were certain that the man had given a fict.i.tious name.

"You work aboard the _Snark_?" Ben resumed the questioning.

"No."

"Then what were you doing there?"

"And why were you pushed overboard?" Penny demanded as the man failed to answer the first question.

"I wasn't pushed," he said sullenly.

"Then how did you get into the water?" Penny pursued the subject ruthlessly.

"I tripped and fell."

Penny and Ben looked at each other, and the latter shrugged, indicating that it would do no good to question the man. Determined to keep the truth from them, he would tell only lies.

"You can't expect us to believe that," Penny said coldly. "We happened to see you when you went overboard. There was a scuffle. Then the men who threw you in, disappeared. For the life of me, I can't see why you would wish to protect them."

"There are a lot of things you can't see, sister," he retorted. "Now will you go away, and let me sleep?"

"Better go," Ben urged in a low tone. "Anyone as savage as this egg, doesn't need a doctor. I'll let him stay here tonight, then send him on his way tomorrow morning."

"You really think that is best?"

"Yes, I do, Penny. We could call the police, but how far would we get?

This bird would deny he was pushed off the boat, and we would look silly.

We couldn't prove a thing."

"I suppose you're right," Penny sighed. "Well, I hope everything goes well tonight."