mused Penny. “Didn’t you think she acted as if she were afraid someone would see her, Lou?”

“Yes, I did. Whatever it was, it’s gone to the bottom of the river.”

Curiously the girls walked to the edge of the dock. Penny glanced over the side and gave an excited cry. Instead of falling into the water, the package had caught fast on a jagged dock post.

“It’s hanging by the string!” she exclaimed.

Eagerly Louise peered down. “You’re right!” she agreed. “But we can’t get it.”

“I’m going to try.”

“Please don’t,” pleaded Louise. “It’s too far down. You’ll tumble into the water.”

“Not if you sit on my heels.”

Undisturbed by what anyone who saw her might think, Penny stretched flat on the dock. With Louise holding to her, she jack-knifed over the edge, clutching at the bundle which dangled an inch above the water.

“Got it!” she chuckled. “Haul away, Lou.”

Louise pulled her friend to safety. Eagerly they examined the package which was wrapped in ordinary newspaper.

“I’ll venture it contains nothing more than the remains of a lunch,” declared Louise. “This is going to be a good joke on you, Penny.”

“A joke?” quavered Penny.

Her gaze had focused upon a hole in the paper. Through the opening protruded a long strand of dark hair.

Louise saw it at the same instant and uttered a choked, horrified scream.

“Human hair—” she gasped. “Oh, Penny! Turn it over to the police!”

“It can’t be that,” said Penny in a calmer voice.

With trembling fingers she untied the string. The paper fell away and several objects dropped at Penny’s feet. Stooping, she picked up a girl’s long black wig. In addition, there was a dark veil, a crushed felt hat, and a cheap cloth jacket.

“A disguise!” exclaimed Louise.

“Yes, the girl who tossed this bundle into the river was the same one we saw aboard the steamer! But why did she wear these things and then try to get rid of them?”

“Why, Penny, don’t you understand?” Louise demanded impressively. “She was a crook just as I thought. And she must have been the one who robbed Tillie Fellows!”

CHAPTER
2
THE RIVER’S VICTIM

Penny stared at the curious array of objects found in the discarded bundle. Unquestionably, they had been worn by the mysterious young woman observed aboard the Goodtime. However, she was not certain she agreed with Louise that the girl or her escort had robbed Tillie Fellows.

“I never heard of a professional pickpocket bothering with a disguise,” she said doubtfully.

“Why else would the girl wear one?”

“I haven’t an idea,” admitted Penny. “Everything about it is queer. For instance, what became of her escort after the steamer docked? And who was that other young man in the gray car?”

“He appeared to be fairly well-to-do.”

“Yes, he did. For that matter, the girl was elegantly dressed.”

Louise kicked at the bundle with her foot. “What shall we do with these things? Toss them away?”

“Indeed, not!” Penny carefully rewrapped the wig, jacket, and other articles in the crumpled newspaper. “I shall take them home with me. One never knows what may develop.”

Before Louise could inquire the meaning of her chum’s remark, a taxi drew up nearby. The door swung open and out leaped a lean young man in a well-tailored blue suit and snap-brim hat.

“Why, it’s Jerry Livingston!” exclaimed Penny, recognizing one of her father’s reporters.

The young man saw the girls and came toward them. “Hello,” he greeted cheerily. “Swell night for a murder.”

“I hope you’re not carrying concealed weapons,” laughed Penny. “Where’s Dad?”

“Delayed at the Star office. He sent me to meet the boat in his place. The fog made traffic slow. That’s why I’m late.”

Taking each of the girls by an elbow, he steered them to the waiting taxi.

“Riverview Star,” he instructed the driver, and slammed the car door.

The fog was not so dense after the cab left the docks, but the entire river valley was blanketed, making it necessary for automobiles to proceed with headlights turned on.

“Have a nice time?” Jerry inquired as the cab crept along the waterfront streets.

“Not very,” answered Penny, “but we ran into a little adventure.”

“Trust you for that,” chuckled the reporter. “City Editor DeWitt was telling the boys at the office that he’d bet you would come home dragging a mystery by its tail!”

“Here it is,” Penny laughed, thrusting the newspaper bundle into his hands. “Lou and I did a little fishing from the dock and this is what we hooked.”

While Jerry examined the contents of the strange package, the girls competed with each other in relating their experiences aboard the steamer. Although the reporter was deeply interested, he could offer no theory to explain why the young woman had discarded the bundle of clothing.

“Louise’s guess seems as good as any,” he commented. “The girl may have been the one who robbed Tillie Fellows.”

“Pickpockets usually frequent crowds,” said Penny. “During the entire trip both the girl and her escort kept strictly to themselves.”

Jerry retied the bundle, tossing it into her lap.

“Your mystery is too much for me,” he said lightly. “Afraid you’ll have to solve it yourself.”

Penny lapsed into meditative silence, yet oddly her thoughts centered upon nothing in particular. For a reason she never tried to explain, the waterfront seldom failed to cast its magical spell over her. She loved the medley of sounds, deep-throated blasts of coal boats mingling with the staccato toots of the tugboats, the rumble and clank of bridges being raised and lowered.

Always Penny had felt an intimate connection with the river, for her home overlooked the Big Bear. Not many miles away flowed the Kobalt, so closely associated with Mud-Cat Joe and the Vanishing Houseboat. It was the Kobalt which very nearly had claimed Jerry’s life, yet had brought the Star one of its greatest news stories.

Ever since she was a little girl, Penny had loved newspaper work. Her entire life seemed bound up with printer’s ink and all that it connoted. She had learned to write well and Mrs. Weems, who had served as the Parker housekeeper for many years, predicted that one day the girl would become a celebrated journalist.

The taxi came to a sudden halt and with a start Penny emerged from her reverie. Jerry leaned forward to ask the driver why they had stopped.

“I can’t see the road very well,” the man replied. “And there’s a bridge ahead.”

As the car crept forward again, Penny peered from the window. Through the swirling gray mist the indistinct lights which marked the arching steel bridge were faintly visible. A pillar gradually emerged, and beside it the shadowy, slouching figure of a man. His burning cigarette made a pin point of light as he tossed it into the river.

Suddenly Penny’s blood ran cold, for a second man appeared on the bridge. Stealthily he approached the one who gazed with such absorption into the inky waters. His purpose was shockingly clear to those who watched.

Penny screamed a warning; the taxi driver halted his cab, shouting huskily. Their cries came too late.

They saw the attacker leap upon his victim. There was a