Penny nodded sympathetically and walked back to make her report to Salt.

"No luck?" he demanded.

"Guess twice," she laughed. "The old bridgeman just took it for granted I was one of the wedding guests. It will be all right for us to go over in the guest launch as soon as it arrives."

Salt gazed ruefully at his clothes.

"I don't look much like a guest. Think I'll pa.s.s inspection?"

"Maybe you could get by as one of the poor relations," grinned Penny.

"Pull your hat down and straighten your tie."

Salt shook his head. "A business suit with a grease spot on the vest isn't the correct dress for a formal wedding. You might get by but I won't."

"Then should I try it alone?"

"I'll have to get those pictures somehow," stated Salt grimly.

"Maybe we could hire a boat of our own," Penny suggested. "Of course it wouldn't look as well as if we arrived on the guest launch."

"Let's see what we can line up," Salt said, swinging open the car door.

They walked to the river's edge and looked in both directions. There were no small boats to be seen. The only available craft was a large motor boat which came slowly downstream toward the open drawbridge. Penny caught a glimpse of the pilot, a burly man with a red, puffy face.

Salt slid down the bank toward the water's edge, and hailed the boat.

"Hey, you, Cap'n!" he called. "Two bucks to take me across the river."

The man inclined his head, looked steadily at Salt for an instant, then deliberately turned his back.

"Five!" shouted Salt.

The pilot gave no sign that he had heard. Instead, he speeded up the boat which pa.s.sed beneath the drawbridge and went on down the river.

CHAPTER 3 _GIFT TO THE BRIDE_

"Perhaps he didn't hear you," said Penny, peering after the retreating boat.

"He heard me all right," growled Salt as he scrambled back up the high bank.

Noticing a small boy in dirty overalls who sat at the water's edge fishing, he called to him: "Say, sonny, who was that fellow, do you know?"

"Nope," answered the boy, barely turning his head, "but his boat has been going up and down the river all morning. That's why I can't catch anything."

The boat rounded a bend of the river and was lost to view. Only one other craft appeared on the water, a freshly painted white motor launch which could be seen coming from the far sh.o.r.e.

"That must be the guest boat now," remarked Penny, shading her eyes against the glare of the sun. "It seems to be our only hope."

"Let's try to get aboard and see what happens," proposed the photographer.

They walked leisurely back toward the guard at the drawbridge, timing their arrival just as the launch swung up to the landing. With a cool a.s.surance which Penny tried to duplicate, Salt stepped aboard, nodded indifferently to the wheelsman, and slumped down in one of the leather seats.

Penny waited uneasily for embarra.s.sing questions which did not come.

Gradually she relaxed as the boatman took no interest in them and the guard's attention was fully occupied with other cars which had driven up to the drawbridge.

A few minutes later, two elderly women, both elegantly gowned, were helped aboard the boat by their chauffeur. One of the women stared disapprovingly at Salt through her lorgnette and then ignored him.

"We'll get by all right," Salt whispered confidently.

"Wait until Mrs. Kippenberg sees us," warned Penny.

"Oh, we'll keep out of her way until we have our story and plenty of pictures. Once we're across the river it will be easy."

"I hope you're right," muttered Penny.

While Salt's task of taking pictures might prove relatively simple, she realized that her own work would be anything but easy. She could not hope to gather many facts without talking to a member of the family, and the instant she admitted her ident.i.ty she likely would be ejected from the grounds.

"I boasted I'd bring in a front page story," she thought ruefully. "I'll be lucky if I get a column of routine stuff."

The boat was moving slowly away from the landing when the guard at the drawbridge called in a loud voice: "Hold it, Joe!"

Penny and Salt stiffened in their chairs, fearing they were to be exposed. But they were both greatly relieved to see that a long, black limousine had drawn up at the end of the road. The launch had been stopped so that additional pa.s.sengers might be accommodated.

Salt nudged Penny's elbow.

"Grant Atherwald," he contributed, jerking his head toward a tall, well-built young man who had stepped from the car. "I've seen his picture plenty of times."

"The bridegroom?" Penny turned to stare.

"Sure. He's one of the blue-bloods, but they say he's a little short on ready cash."

The young man, dressed immaculately in formal day attire, and accompanied by two other men, came aboard the launch. He bowed politely to the elderly women and his gaze fell questioningly upon Penny and Salt. But if he wondered why they were there, he did not voice his thought.

As the boat put out across the river Penny watched Grant Atherwald curiously. It seemed to her that he appeared nervous and preoccupied. He stared straight before him, clenching and unclenching his hands. His face was colorless and drawn.

"He's nervous and worried," thought Penny. "I guess all bridegrooms are like that."

A sharp "click" sounded in her ear. Penny did not turn toward Salt, but she caught her breath, knowing what he had done. He had dared to take a picture of Grant Atherwald!

She waited, feeling certain that the sound must have been heard by everyone in the boat. A full minute elapsed and no one spoke. When Penny finally glanced at Salt he was gazing serenely out across the muddy water, his miniature camera shielded behind a felt hat which he held on his knees.

The boat docked. Salt and Penny allowed the others to go ash.o.r.e first, and then followed a narrow walk which wound through a deep lane of evergreen trees.

"Salt," Penny asked abruptly, "how did you get that picture of Atherwald?"