CHAPTER 6 SWEEPER JOE INFORMS
Alarmed for Jack, Penny scrambled over a seat to his side. He had beenstruck a hard blow by the swinging boom and there was a tiny jagged cutjust behind his ear. A glance satisfied the girl that he was notseriously injured and that she could do nothing for him at the moment.
Turning her attention to the sail which was showing an inclination toslam over again, she quickly pulled it in and lowered it to the deck.
By then Jack had opened his eyes. His bewildered gaze rested upon her,and he rubbed his head.
"You--" he mumbled, raising on an elbow.
Penny firmly pushed him back. "Lie still!" she commanded.
Seizing the paddle, she tried to shove the boat backwards off the mudbank. Her best efforts would not move it an inch.
Slowly Jack raised himself to a sitting position. He rubbed his head.Bewilderment changed to a look of comprehension.
"I'm okay now," he said huskily. "We're hard aground, aren't we?"
"Solid as a rock," agreed Penny, wiping perspiration from her forehead."Any ideas?"
"I'll get out and push."
"You're not strong enough. You took a nasty blow on the head."
Had not Jack looked so thoroughly miserable, Penny might have beentempted to adopt an "I told you so" attitude. There had been no excusefor running aground. Sally Barker had warned them about the shoal, andJack deliberately had disregarded her advice.
"I guess it was my fault," Jack mumbled, the words coming withdifficulty. "The water was deep enough here yesterday. I was so sure--"
His eyes, like those of an abused puppy, appealed to her for sympathy.Suddenly, Penny's resentment vanished and she felt sorry for Jack.
"Never mind," she said kindly. "We'll get off somehow. If necessary, Ican swim to Shadow Island for help."
"It won't be necessary." Jack pulled off shoes and socks, and rolled uphis slacks above his knees. "I got us into this, and I'll get us out.Just sit tight."
Despite Penny's protests, he swung over the side, into the shallow water.Applying his shoulder to the _Spindrift's_ bow, he pushed with all hisstrength. Penny dug into the mud with the paddle.
The boat groaned and clung fast to the shoal. Then inch by inch it beganto move backwards.
"We're off!" Penny cried jubilantly.
Jack pushed until the _Spindrift_ was safely away from the shoal. Wet andplastered with mud, he scrambled aboard.
"No use putting up the sail," he said gloomily. "The centerboard isdamaged. When we went aground I should have pulled it up, but thingshappened so fast I didn't think of it."
"Can't it be repaired?"
"Oh, sure, but it means hauling the boat out of water for several days.And the race will be held in a week. I'll have no chance to practice."
"It's a bad break," Penny said sympathetically. "Perhaps the centerboardisn't much damaged."
They paddled to the Shadow Island dock. There with the help of theGandiss chauffeur, Jack tied ropes under the bottom of the _Spindrift_and by means of a hoist and crane, lifted the boat a few feet out ofwater. A piece had been broken from the centerboard and the bottom was sobadly scratched that it would have to be repainted before the race.
"I call this wretched luck!" Jack fumed. "It will take days to repair andrepaint the _Spindrift_."
The accident had a subduing effect upon the boy, and the remainder of theday he tried to make amends to Penny. They swam together and played threesets of tennis. In each contest Penny won with ease.
"You're about the first girl who ever beat me at anything," Jack saidruefully. "Guess that rap on the head did me no good."
"How about the sailboat race?" Penny tripped him. "Didn't Sally win thelantern trophy?"
Grudgingly, Jack admitted that she had. "But the race was a fluke," headded. "The wind was tricky and favored Sally's old tub. It won't happentwice."
Annoyed by the youth's alibis, Penny turned and walked away.
At dinner that night, Mr. Gandiss suggested that Mr. Parker and hisdaughter might like to visit his steel plant and airplane factory on themainland. Despite vigorous protests, Jack was taken along.
The buildings owned by Mr. Gandiss were situated across the river in thetown of Osage. Occupying many city blocks, the property included anairplane testing ground, and was protected by a high guard fenceelectrically charged.
"Every employee must pass inspection at the gate," Mr. Gandiss explainedas the taxi cab approached the entrance to the main factory. "We operateon a twenty-four hour basis now, and even so can't keep abreast oforders."
Lights blazed in the low rows of windows, and from the chimneys of thesteel plant, fire leaped high into the dark sky.
"Will we be able to see steel poured from the furnaces?" Penny askedeagerly. "I've always wanted to watch it done."
"You may tour every building if your feet hold out," Mr. Gandisschuckled.
A squat, red-faced man with pouchy eyes, halted the taxi cab at the gate.
"No visitors allowed here at night," he began in a surly voice, and thenrecognized the plant owner. His manner changed instantly. "Oh, it's you,Mr. Gandiss! How are you this evening?"
"Very well, thank you, Clayton. I have some friends with me who wish tosee the plant."
"Drive right in," the gateman invited, swinging open the barrier.
The taxi rolled through the gate, and drew up in front of one of thebuildings. Inside, fluorescent lights gave the effect of daylight.Overhead carriers were lifting newly blanked and formed airplane partsfrom power presses, carrying them to sub-assembly lines.
"Raw materials, brought up-river by boats, enter one end of thebuilding," Mr. Gandiss explained proudly. "Miraculously they come out theother end as finished airplanes ready for testing."
The plant had four main assembly lines along which the wings, fuselages,engines, tail surfaces, pilot and bombardier floors were assembled, heexplained. In one room the party paused to watch row upon row offuselages being put together ready for transfer to the main assemblyline.
"You have a wonderful factory here, Mr. Gandiss," Penny's father praised,much impressed. "It must be a job to keep tab on the personnel."
"Oh, everything has been reduced to a system. One department meshes intoanother. But if production falls down in any one department, resultscould be serious." Mr. Gandiss frowned and added: "Now take those pettybrass thefts. In a way it is a trivial matter, but the practice isspreading."
"The disappearance of parts hasn't curtailed production to any extent?"
"Not as yet, but it has caused our stockrooms serious annoyance. Then theloss on a yearly basis will become considerable. The guilty persons mustbe caught, and the organizers broken up before it gets more serious."
Mr. Gandiss escorted the visitors into another large room where hundredsof girls in slacks, their hair bound by nets, worked over machines withconcentrated attention.
"Our beginners start here," he explained. "Strangely, we lose more brassand copper from this shift than anywhere else in the plant."
"How do you explain it?" Penny asked.
"The girls are new and we are convinced they are being misled by someone.The entire situation has us baffled."
Few of the workers paid the visitors heed as they wandered along the rowsof machines. However, a slovenly, sharp-eyed man with a push broom,watched them with deep interest. Known as Joe the Sweeper, though hisreal name was Joseph Jakaboloski, he once had been a skilled mechanic.Two of his fingers were missing, and he no longer did any useful work.
"See that man?" Mr. Gandiss said in an undertone. "Shortly after hestarted working for us, two years ago, he had an accident that wasentirely his own fault. We immediately put him in an easy job and stillpay him his former salary. But he doesn't even sweep a room properly."
"Why not let him go?" Mr. Parker questioned.
Mr. Gandiss smiled and shook his head. "He was injured while worki
ng forus, so we are responsible for looking after him. We would like to pensionhim off. You see, he constantly stirs up trouble among the new employes."
Joe the Sweeper had been watching Mr. Gandiss with concentratedattention, though too far away to hear what was said. With amusing haste,he swept his way closer to the group. Finally he smirked and sidled up tothe factory owner.
"Can I see you alone fer a minute, Mr. Gandiss?" he asked, his voice awhine.
"I am very busy," the factory owner discouraged him. "What is it youwant?"
Joe edged even closer, dropping his voice so that it was barely audibleabove the clatter of the machinery.
"You been losin' copper and brass from your factory, ain't you?"
The direct approach startled Mr. Gandiss. He gazed at Joe keenly, thennodded.
"Well, maybe I kin help you. What's it worth?"
Mr. Gandiss was careful not to show his dislike for the man. "If you areable to provide information which will lead to the apprehension of thethieves, I'll see that you get a substantial salary increase."
Joe blinked and grinned. "Last night I seen a girl in this room stick apiece of brass into her shirt front. She carried it off with her."
"Who was the girl?"
"Dunno her name. A blond piece in blue slacks."
"I'm afraid your information is of no value," Mr. Gandiss saidimpatiently. "Unless you know who she is--"
"She's a new gal that's only been workin' here a few nights," Joesupplied hastily. "You'll give me that salary raise if I turn her in?"
"If your information proves correct."
Joe's eyes brightened with a crafty light and he jerked his head towardthe left.
"You can't see her from here," he muttered, "but you can get her nameeasy enough. She's the gal that operates machine No. 567."