"You talk as if they were gone forever," laughed Penny. "Other good stories will come along."

"Maybe," said Salt, "but covering a wedding is pretty tame in comparison."

"Yet this one does have interesting angles," Penny insisted. "Can't you almost feel mystery lurking about the place?"

"No, but I do feel a mosquito sinking his stinger into me." Salt slapped vigorously at his ankle.

They followed the path on toward the river, coming soon to a trail which branched off to the right. Across it had been stretched a wire barrier and a neatly lettered sign read:

NO ADMITTANCE BEYOND THIS POINT.

"Why do you suppose the path is blocked off?" Penny speculated.

"Let's find out," Salt suggested with a sudden flare of interest. "Maybe we'll run into something worth a picture."

Penny hesitated, not wishing to disregard the sign, yet eager to learn what lay beyond the barrier.

"Listen," said Salt, "just put your little conscience on ice. We're here to get the 'who, when, why and where.' You'll never be a first cla.s.s newspaper reporter if you stifle your curiosity."

"Lead on," laughed Penny. "I will follow. Only isn't it getting late?"

Salt looked at his watch. "We still have a safe fifteen minutes."

He started to step over the wire, only to have Penny reach out and grasp his hand.

"Wait!" she whispered.

"What's the idea?" Salt turned toward her in astonishment.

"I think someone is watching us! I'm sure I saw the bushes move."

"Your nerves are jumpy," Salt jeered. "It's only the wind."

Even as he spoke the foliage to the left moved ever so slightly and a dark form could be seen creeping stealthily away along the ground.

CHAPTER 5 _THE MISSING BRIDEGROOM_

Salt acted instinctively. Leaping over the wire barrier he dived into the bushes. Hurling himself upon the man who crouched there, he pinned him to the ground. The fellow gave a choked cry and tried to pull free.

"Oh, no, you don't," Salt muttered, coolly sitting down on his stomach.

"Snooping, eh?"

"You let me up!" the man cried savagely. "Let me up, I say!"

"I'll let you up when you explain what you were doing here."

"Why, you impudent young pup!" the man spluttered. "You're the one who will explain. I am Mrs. Kippenberg's head gardener."

Salt's hand fell from the old man's collar and he apologetically helped him to his feet. Penny, who had reached the scene, stooped down and recovered a trowel which had slipped from the gardener's grasp.

"It was just a little mistake on my part," Salt mumbled. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No fault of yours you didn't," the old man snapped. "A fine howdydo when a person can't even loosen earth around a shrub without being a.s.saulted by a ruffian!"

The gardener was a short, stout man with graying hair. He wore coa.r.s.e garments, a loose fitting pair of trousers, a dark shirt and battered felt hat. But Penny noticed that his hands and fingernails were clean and there were no trowel marks around any of the shrubs.

"Salt isn't exactly a ruffian," she said as the photographer offered no defense. "After all, from where we stood it looked exactly as if you were hiding in the bushes."

"Then you both need gla.s.ses," the man retorted rudely. "A person can't work without getting down on his hands and knees."

"Where were you digging?" Penny asked innocently.

"I was just starting in when this young upstart leaped on my back!"

"Sorry," said Salt, "but I thought you were trying to get away."

"Who are you anyway?" the gardener demanded bluntly. "You're not guests.

I can tell that."

"You have a very discerning eye," replied Salt smoothly. "We're from the _Riverview Star_."

"Reporters, eh?" The old man scowled unpleasantly. "Then you've no business being here at all. You're not wanted, so get out!"

"We're only after a few facts about the wedding," Penny said. "Perhaps you would be willing to tell me--"

"I'll tell you nothing, Miss! If anything is given out to the papers it will have to come from Mrs. Kippenberg."

"Fair enough," Salt acknowledged. He glanced curiously down the path which had been blocked off. "What's down there?"

"Nothing." The gardener spoke irritably. "This part of the estate hasn't been fixed up. That's why it's closed."

Penny had bent down, pretending to examine a shrub at the edge of the path.

"What is the name of this bush?" she inquired casually.

"An azalea," the gardener replied after a slight hesitation. "Now get out of here, will you? I have my work to do."

"Oh, all right," Salt rejoined as he and Penny moved away. "No need to get so tough."

They stepped over the barrier wire and retraced their way toward the house. Several times Penny glanced back but she could not see the old man. He had slipped away somewhere among the trees.

"I don't believe that fellow was a gardener," she said suddenly.

"What makes you think not?"