Signal in the Dark Part 4

Penny tried to note the license number of the automobile, but the plate was so covered with mud she could not read a single figure. The car whirled around a corner and was lost to view.

"Salt, that man may have been the one who set off the explosion!" Penny cried. "The mob is of that opinion at least!"

Angry employes now were bearing directly toward Penny and Salt. Suddenly a woman in the crowd pointed toward the photographer, shouting: "There he is! Get him!"

Dismayed, Penny saw then that Salt wore a light overcoat which bore a striking resemblance to the garment of the fleeing stranger. Their builds too were somewhat similar, for both were thin and angular. In the darkness, the mob had failed to see the car roll away, and had mistaken Salt for the saboteur.

"Let's get out of here!" Salt muttered. "One thing you can't do is argue with a mob!"

He and Penny started in the opposite direction, only to be faced by a smaller group of workmen who had swarmed from another factory gate.

Escape was cut off.

"Tell them we're from the _Star_!" Penny urged, but as she beheld the angry faces, she realized how futile were her words.

"They'll wreck my equipment before I can explain anything!" Salt said swiftly. He thrust the camera into her hands. "Here, take this and try to keep it safe! And these plates!"

Empty-handed, Salt turned to face the mob. Not knowing what to do, Penny tried to cut across the street. But the crowd evidently had taken her for a companion of the saboteur, and was determined she should not escape.

"Don't let her get away!" shouted a woman in slacks, her voice shrill with excitement. "Get her!"

A car was coming slowly down the street. Its driver, a woman, was watching the flaming building, and had rolled down the window gla.s.s to see better. The window of the rear seat also was halfway down.

As the women of the mob bore down upon Penny, she acted impulsively to save Salt's camera and the precious plates. Without thinking of the ultimate consequence, she tossed them through the open rear window onto the back seat of the moving car.

The driver, her attention focused upon the blazing factory, apparently did not observe the act, for she continued slowly on down the street.

"D F 3005," Penny noted the license number. "If only I can remember!"

The factory women were upon the girl, seizing her roughly by the shoulders and shouting accusations. Penny's jacket was ripped as she jerked free.

"I'm a reporter for the _Star_!" she cried desperately. "Sent here to cover the story!"

The words made not the slightest impression upon the women. But before they could lay hands upon her again, she fled across the street. The women did not pursue her, for just then two police cars rolled up to the curb.

Penny, greatly relieved, ran to summon help.

"Quick!" she urged the policemen. "That crazy mob has mistaken a reporter for one of the saboteurs who escaped in a car!"

With drawn clubs, the policemen battled their way through the crowd.

Already Salt had been roughly handled. But arrival of the police saved him from further mistreatment, and fearful of arrest, the mob began to scatter. In another moment the photographer was free, although a bit battered. His coat had been torn to shreds, one eye had been blackened, and blood trickled from a cut on his lower lip.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously as Penny rushed to him.

"Oh, yes! But you're a sight, Salt. They half killed you!"

"I'm okay," Salt insisted. "The important thing is we've got a whale of a story, and we saved the camera and pictures."

A stricken look came over Penny's face.

"Salt--" she stammered. "Your camera--"

"It was smashed?"

"No, I tossed it into a car, but the car went on down the street. How we'll ever find it again I don't know!"

CHAPTER 4 _THE MISSING PLATES_

Salt did not criticise Penny when he learned exactly what had happened.

"I'd rather lose a dozen pictures than have my camera smashed," he declared to cheer her. "Anyway, we may be able to trace the car and get everything back. Remember the license number?"

"D F 3005," Penny said promptly, and wrote it down lest she forget.

"Let's call the license bureau and get the owner's name," the photographer proposed, steering her toward a corner drugstore. "Gosh, it's late!" he added, noticing a clock in a store window. "And they're holding the paper for our story and pictures!"

"I certainly messed everything up," Penny said dismally. "At the moment, it seemed the thing to do. When those women started for me, I thought it was the only way to save the camera."

"Don't worry about it," Salt comforted. "I'll get the camera back."

"But how will we catch the edition with your pictures?"

"That's a horse of a different color," Salt admitted ruefully. "Anyway, it's my funeral. I'll tell DeWitt something."

"I'll tell him myself," Penny said firmly. "I lost the pictures, and I expect to take responsibility for it."

"Let's not worry ahead. Maybe we can trace that car if we have luck."

Entering the drugstore, Penny immediately telephoned Editor DeWitt at the _Star_, reporting all the facts she had picked up.

"Okay, that's fine," he praised. "One of our men reporters, Art Bailey, is on his way out there now. He'll take over. Tell Salt Sommers to get in here fast with his pictures!"

"He'll call you in just a minute or two," Penny said weakly.

From another phone, Salt had been in touch with the license bureau. As Penny left the booth to join him, she saw by the look of his face that he had had no luck.

"Couldn't you get the name of the owner?" she asked.

"It's worse than that, Penny. The license was made out to a man by the name of A. B. Bettenridge. He lives at Silbus City."

"Silbus City! At the far end of the state!"

"That's the size of it."

"But how did the car happen to be in Riverview?"