The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (41 page)

“Nevertheless, being of a suspicious nature won me a new car,” Penny defended herself. “Don’t forget Dad gave it to me for solving a mystery, for telling his newspaper readers what was going on
Behind the Green Door
.”

“Oh, your curiosity has paid dividends,” Louise admitted with a laugh. “Take for instance the time you trailed the
Vanishing Houseboat
, and again when you lowered the Kippenberg drawbridge to capture a boatload of crooks! Those were the days!”

“Why dwell in the past, Lou? Now take this affair of the silk ladder—”

“I’m afraid
you’ll
have to take it,” Louise interrupted. “Do you realize it’s nearly four o’clock? In exactly ten minutes I am supposed to be at the auditorium for orchestra practice.”

“Lou, you can’t desert me now,” Penny protested quickly. “How will I get Lena home? I need you to steer her.”

“Thanks, but I don’t trust your tow rope.”

“At least go as far as the
Star
office with me. Once there, maybe I can get one of the reporters to help me the rest of the way.”

“Oh, all right,” Louise consented. “But the
Star
office is my absolute limit.”

Deciding not to take time to telephone her father, Penny once more climbed into the maroon sedan, posting Louise behind the wheel of the coupe. At a cautious speed the two cars proceeded along the street, coming presently to a large corner building which housed the
Riverview Star
. No parking space being available on the street, Penny pulled into the newspaper plant’s loading dock.

“Say, you!” shouted a man who was tossing stacks of freshly inked papers into a truck. “You can’t park that caravan in here!”

Penny’s eyes danced mischievously.

“Oh, it’s quite all right,” she said. “I guess you don’t know who I am.”

“Sure, I do,” the trucker grinned. “But your dad gave orders that the next time you tried to pull that daughter-of-the-publisher stuff we were to bounce you! This dock is for
Star
trucks.”

“Why, the very idea,” said Penny, with pretended injury. “The night edition doesn’t roll for an hour and I’ll be away from here before then! Besides, this is a great emergency! When Dad hears about all the trouble I’m in, a little matter such as this won’t even ruffle him.”

“Okay, chase along,” the trucker returned good-naturedly. “But see to it that you’re out of here within an hour.”

Penny bade Louise good-bye, and with plaid skirt swinging jauntily, crossed the cement runway to the rear elevator entrance. Without waiting for the cage to descend, she took the steps two at a time, arriving at the editorial floor gasping for breath.

“What’s your rush?” inquired an amused voice. “Going to a fire?”

Jerry Livingston, ace reporter for the
Star
, leaned indolently against the grillwork of the elevator shaft, his finger pressed on the signal button. He and Penny were friends of long standing.

“Oh, hello, Jerry!” Penny greeted him breathlessly. “Guess what? I’ve just come from Dorr Street—Kano’s Curio Shop—and I had the most amazing adventure!”

“I can imagine,” grinned Jerry. “If you breezed through the place the way you do this building, you must have left it in ruins.”

“Just for that, I won’t tell you a thing, not a thing,” retorted Penny. “What sort of a mood is Dad in today?”

“Well, I heard him tell DeWitt that unless the news output improves on this sheet, he aims to fire half the force.”

“Sounds like Dad on one of his bad days,” Penny sighed. “Maybe I should skip home without seeing him.”

“Trouble with the old allowance again?” Jerry asked sympathetically.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m submerged so deeply in debt that I’ll be an old lady before I get out, unless Dad comes to my rescue.”

“Well, good luck,” chuckled Jerry. “You’ll need it!”

Walking through the newsroom, between aisles of desks where busy reporters tapped on their typewriters, Penny paused before a door marked:
Anthony Parker, Editor
.

Listening a moment and hearing no voices within, she knocked and entered. Her father, a lean, dignified man with tired lines about his eyes and mouth, sat working at his desk. He smiled as he saw his daughter, and waved her toward a chair.

Instead, Penny perched herself on a corner of the desk.

“Dad, I have a splendid surprise for you,” she began brightly. “I’ve just accomplished a wonderful stroke of business!”

“Never mind beating about the bush,” interrupted Mr. Parker. “Shoot me the facts straight. What have you done this time?”

“Dad, your tone! I’ve bought back my old car, Leaping Lena. And it only cost me a trifling sum.”

Mr. Parker’s chair squeaked as he whirled around.

“You’ve done
what
?”

“It’s a long story, Dad. Now don’t think that I fail to appreciate the grand new car you gave me last winter. I love it. But between Lena and me there exists a deep bond of affection. Today when I saw her on Jake Harriman’s lot looking so weather-beaten and unhappy—why, a little voice inside me whispered:‘Penny, why don’t you buy her back?’ So I did.”

“Never mind the sentimental touches. When I gave you the new car I thought we were well rid of Lena. How much did you pay for it?”

“Oh, Lena was a marvelous bargain. Five dollars cash and a note for twenty more. The man said you could pay for it at your convenience.”

“Very considerate of him,” Mr. Parker remarked ironically. “Now that we have three cars, and a double garage, where do you propose to keep Lena?”

“Oh, anywhere. In the back yard.”

“Not on the lawn, young lady. And what do you plan to do with two cars?”

“The maroon one for style, and Lena when I want a good time. Why, Dad, she bears the autographs of nearly all my school friends! I should keep her as a souvenir, if for no other reason.”

“Penny, it’s high time you learned a few lessons in finance.” Mr. Parker spoke sternly although his mouth twitched slightly. “I regret that I cannot assume your debts.”

“But Dad! I’m a minor—under legal age. Isn’t it a law that a father has to support his child?”

“A child, but not two cars. If you decide to take the case to court, I think any reasonable judge will understand my viewpoint. I repeat, the debt is yours, not mine.”

“How will I pay?” asked Penny gloomily. “I’ve already borrowed on my allowance for a month ahead.”

“I know,” said her father. “However, with your ingenuity I am sure you can manage.”

Penny drew a deep breath. Argument, she realized, would be utterly useless. While her father might be mildly amused by her predicament, he never would change his decision.

“Since you won’t pay for Lena, I suppose it’s useless to mention Mr. Kohl’s fender,” she said despairingly.

“Does he have one?”

“Please don’t try to be funny, Dad. This is tragic. While I was towing Lena, the rope broke and smash went the fender of Mr. Kohl’s slinky black limousine.”

“Interesting.”

“I had to promise to pay for it to keep from being arrested. Oh, yes, and before that I acquired this little thing.”

Penny tossed the yellow card across the desk.

“A parking ticket! Penny, how many times—” Mr. Parker checked himself, finishing in a calm voice:“This, too, is your debt. It may cost you five dollars.”

“Dad, you know I can’t pay. Think how your reputation will be tarnished if I am sent to jail.”

Mr. Parker smiled and reached as if to take money from his pocket. Reconsidering, he shook his head.

“I know the warden well,” he said. “I’ll arrange for you to be assigned to one of the better cells.”

“Is there nothing which will move you to generosity?” pleaded Penny.

“Nothing.”

Retrieving the parking ticket, Penny jammed it into her pocket. Before she could leave there came a rap on the door. In response to Mr. Parker’s “Come in,” Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, entered.

“Sorry to bother you, Chief.”

“What’s wrong now, DeWitt?” the publisher inquired.

“Miss Hilderman was taken sick a few minutes ago. We had to send her home in a cab.”

“It’s nothing serious I hope,” said Mr. Parker with concern.

“A mild heart attack. She’ll be out a week, if not longer.”

“I see. Be sure to have the treasurer give her full pay. You have someone to take her place?”

“That’s the problem,” moaned DeWitt. “Her assistant is on vacation. I don’t know where we can get a trained society editor on short notice.”

“Well, do the best you can.”

DeWitt lingered, fingering a paper weight.

“The society page for the Sunday paper is only half finished,” he explained. “Deadline’s in less than an hour. Not a chance we can pick up anyone in time to meet it.”

Penny spoke unexpectedly. “Mr. DeWitt, perhaps I can help you. I’m a whiz when it comes to writing society. Remember the Kippenberg wedding I covered?”

“Do I?” DeWitt’s face relaxed into a broad grin. “That was a real write-up. Say, maybe you could take over Miss Hilderman’s job until we can replace her.”

“Service is my motto.” Penny eyed her father questioningly. “It might save the
Star
from going to press minus a society page. How about it, Dad?”

“It certainly would solve our problem,” contributed DeWitt. “Of course the undertaking might be too great a one for your daughter.” He winked at Penny.

“She’ll have no difficulty in taking over,” said Mr. Parker stiffly. “None whatsoever.”

“Then I’ll start her in at once,” DeWitt replied. “Come with me, Miss Parker.”

At the door Penny paused and discreetly allowed the city editor to get beyond hearing. Then, turning to her father she remarked innocently:

“Oh, by the way, we overlooked one trifling detail. The salary!”

The editor made a grimace. “I might have expected this. Very well, I’ll pay you the same as I do Miss Hilderman. Twenty-five a week.”

“Why, that would just take care of my debt to Jake Harriman,” protested Penny. “I simply can’t do high pressure work without high pay. Shall we make it fifty a week?”

“So you’re holding me up?”

“Certainly not,” chuckled Penny. “Merely using my ingenuity. Am I hired?”

“Yes, you win,” answered Mr. Parker grimly. “But see to it that you turn out good work. Otherwise, you soon may find yourself on the
Star
’s inactive list.”

CHAPTER 3

SOCIETY ROUTINE

Penny followed City Editor DeWitt to a small, glass-enclosed office along the left hand wall of the newsroom. Miss Hilderman’s desk was cluttered with sheets of copy paper which bore scribbled notations, items telephoned to the
Star
but not yet type-written.

“There should be a date book around here somewhere,”DeWitt remarked.

Finally he found it in one of the desk drawers. Penny drew a deep breath as she scanned the long list of social events which must be covered for the Sunday page.

“Do the best you can,” DeWitt said encouragingly. “Work fast, but be careful of names.”

The telephone bell rang. As Penny reached for the receiver, DeWitt retreated to his own domain.

“Hello, Miss Hilderman?” a feminine voice cooed,“I wish to report a meeting, please.”

“Miss Hilderman isn’t here this afternoon,” replied Penny politely. “I will take the item.”

Gathering up paper and pencil, she slid into the revolving chair behind the telephone, poised for action.

“Yes,” she urged, “I am ready.”

There was a lengthy pause, and then the woman at the other end of the line recited as if she were reading from a paper:

“‘A meeting of the Mystical Society of Celestial Thought, Order of Amar, 67, will be held Tuesday night at eight o’clock in the Temple, 426 Butternut Lane. The public is cordially invited.’”

“What sort of society is the Order of Amar?”Penny inquired curiously, taking notes. “I never heard of it before.”

“Why, my dear, the society is very well known,” the woman replied. “We hold our meetings regularly, communing with the spirits. I do hope that the item appears in print. So often Miss Hilderman has been careless about it.”

“I’ll see that the item is printed under club notices,”Penny promised. “Your name, please?”

The woman had hung up the receiver, so with a shrug, Penny typed the item and speared it on a wire spindle. For the next hour she was kept busy with other telephone calls and the more important stories which had to be rushed through. Copy flowed steadily from her office by way of the pneumatic tube to the composing room.