The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (8 page)

“You are entitled to your opinion,” said Mr. Parker. “And I sincerely hope that you are right.”

“At least do not use that picture which your photographer took of Mrs. Kippenberg. I’ll pay you for it.”

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head.

“I might have expected such an attitude!” Mr. Atherwald exclaimed angrily. “Good afternoon.”

He left the office, slamming the door behind him.

“Well, you’ve lost another subscriber, Dad,” said Penny flippantly.

“He’s not the first,” returned her father.

“I intended to give Mr. Atherwald the wedding ring, but he went off in too big a hurry. Should I go after him?”

“No, don’t bother, Penny. You might take it around to the picture room and have it photographed. We may use it as Exhibit A if the story develops into anything.”

“How about the alligator?” Penny asked. “Would you like to have me bring that to the office, too?”

“Move out of here and let me work,” her father retorted.

Penny went to the photographic department and made her requirements known.

“I’ll wait for the ring,” she announced. “You don’t catch me trusting you boys with any jewelry.”

While the picture was being taken Salt came by with several damp prints in his hand.

“Take a look at this one, Penny,” he said proudly. “Mrs. Kippenberg wielding a wicked plate. Will she burn up when she sees it on the picture page?”

“She will, indeed,” agreed Penny. “Nice going.”

When the ring had been returned to her she slipped it into her pocket and left the newspaper office. Her next stop was at a corner hamburger shop where she fortified herself with two large sandwiches.

“That ought to hold me until the dinner bell rings,” she thought. “And now to pay my honest debts.”

A trolley ride and a short walk brought Penny to the home of her chum, Louise Sidell. As she came within sight of the front porch she saw her friend sitting on the steps, reading a movie magazine. Louise threw it aside and sprang to her feet.

“Oh, Penny, I’m glad you came over. I telephoned your house and Mrs. Weems said you had gone away somewhere.”

“Official business for Dad,” Penny laughed. She dropped two dollars into Louise’s hand. “Here’s what I owe you. But don’t go spend it because I may need to borrow it back in a couple of days.”

“Is Leaping Lena running up huge garage bills again?” Louise inquired sympathetically.

Penny’s second-hand car was a joke to everyone save herself. She was a familiar figure at nearly every garage in Riverview, for the vehicle had a disconcerting way of breaking down.

“I had to buy new spark plugs this time,” sighed Penny. “But then, I should get along better from now on. Dad raised my allowance.”

“Doesn’t that call for a celebration? Rini’s have a special on today. A double chocolate sundae with pineapple and nuts, cherry and—”

“Oh, no, you don’t! I’m saving my dollar for the essentials of life. I may need it for gasoline if I decide to drive over to Corbin again.”

“Again?” Louise asked alertly.

“I was over there today, covering the Kippenberg wedding,” Penny explained. “Only it turned out there was no ceremony. Grant Atherwald jilted his bride, or was spirited away by persons unknown. He was last seen near a lily pool in an isolated part of the estate. I picked up a wedding ring lying on the ground close by. And then as a climax Mrs. Kippenberg hurled a plate at Salt.”

“Penny Parker, what are you saying?” Louise demanded. “It sounds like one of those two-reel thrillers they show over at the Rialto.”

“Here is the evidence,” Penny said, showing her the white gold ring.

“It’s amazing how you get into so much adventure,”Louise replied enviously as she studied the trinket. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

The invitation was very much to Penny’s liking. Perching herself on the highest porch step she recounted her visit to the Kippenberg estate, painting an especially romantic picture of the castle dwelling, the moat, and the drawbridge.

“Oh, I’d love to visit the place,” Louise declared. “You have all the luck.”

“I’ll take you with me if I ever get to go again,” promised Penny. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with this careless farewell, she sprang to her feet, and hastened on home.

The next morning while Mrs. Weems was preparing breakfast, Penny ran down to the corner to buy the first edition of the
Star
. As she spread it open a small headline accosted her eye.

“NO TRACE OF MISSING BRIDEGROOM.”

Penny read swiftly, learning that Grant Atherwald had not been seen since his strange disappearance from the Kippenberg estate. Members of the family refused to discuss the affair and had made no report to the police.

“This story is developing into something big after all,” she thought with quickening pulse. “Now if Dad will only let me work on it!”

At home she gave the newspaper to her father, remarking rather pointedly: “You see, your expert reporters haven’t learned very much more than I brought in yesterday. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to send me out there again today?”

“Oh, I doubt if you could get into the estate, Penny.”

“Salt and I managed yesterday.”

“You did very well, but you weren’t known then. It will be a different matter today since we antagonized the family by using the story. I’ll suggest that Jerry Livingston be assigned to it.”

“With Penny as first assistant?”

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head. “This isn’t your type of story. Now if you would like to cover a lecture at the Women’s Club—”

“Or a nice peppy meeting of the Ladies Sewing Circle,” Penny finished ironically. “Thank you, no.”

“I am sure you wouldn’t have a chance of getting into the estate,” her father said lamely. “We must have good coverage.”

“What does Jerry have that I haven’t got?” Penny demanded in an aggrieved voice.

“Eight years of experience for one thing.”

“But I really should go out there,” Penny insisted. “I ought to show Miss Kippenberg the ring I found.”

“The ring might provide an entry,” Mr. Parker admitted thoughtfully. “I’ll tell you, why don’t you telephone long distance?”

“And if I’m able to make an appointment, may I help Jerry cover the story?”

“All right,” agreed Mr. Parker. “If Sylvia Kippenberg talks with you we’ll be able to use anything she says.”

“I’m the same as on my way to the estate now, Dad.”

With a triumphant laugh, Penny left the breakfast table and hastened to the telephone.

“Long distance,” she said into the transmitter. “The Kippenberg estate at Corbin, please.”

She hovered anxiously near the telephone while she waited for the connection to be made. Ten minutes elapsed before the bell jingled several times. Eagerly, she jerked down the receiver. She could hear a faint, far-away voice saying, “hello.”

“May I speak with Sylvia Kippenberg?” Penny requested.

“Who is this, please?”

“Miss Parker at Riverview.”

“Miss Kippenberg is not at home,” came the stiff response.

“Then let me speak with Mrs. Kippenberg,” Penny said quickly. “I have something very important to tell her. Yesterday when I was at the estate I found a ring—”

The receiver had clicked at the other end of the line. The connection was broken.

CHAPTER 9

A SOCIETY BAZAAR

“You see, Penny,” said Mr. Parker sympathetically,“wealthy people have a way of being inaccessible to the press. They surround themselves with servants who have been trained to allow no invasion of their privacy. They erect barriers which aren’t easily broken down.”

“If only I could have reached Miss Kippenberg I feel sure she would have wished to learn about the ring,” returned Penny. “Oh, well, let Jerry cover the story. I’ve lost interest.”

All that morning the girl went about the house in a mood of deep depression. She felt completely out of sorts and would scowl at her own reflection whenever she passed a mirror. Nothing seemed to go right.

“I declare, I wish you would forget that silly wedding,”Mrs. Weems said wearily. “Why don’t you try working out your resentment on a tennis ball?”

“Not a bad idea,” admitted Penny. “Only I have no partner. Louise is going away somewhere today to a charity bazaar.”

“Here in Riverview?” inquired Mrs. Weems with interest.

“No, it’s to be held at Andover, twenty miles from Corbin. Louise is going with an aunt of hers. She invited me several days ago, but I didn’t think it would be any fun.”

“You might enjoy it. Why don’t you go?”

“I wonder if it isn’t too late?” Penny glanced at the clock.

A telephone call to the Sidell home assured her that she would have ample time to get ready for the trip. She quickly dressed and was waiting when Louise and her aunt, Miss Lucinda Frome, drove up to the door.

“What sort of an affair is it?” Penny inquired as they traveled toward the distant town.

Miss Frome explained that the bazaar was being sponsored by members of the D.A.R. organization and would be held at one of the fashionable clubs of the city. As Miss Frome belonged to the Riverview chapter she and her guests would have an entry.

“I look forward to meeting a number of prominent persons today,” the woman declared. “The Andover chapter has a very exclusive membership.”

Louise winked at Penny, for it was a source of amusement to her that her aunt stood in awe of society personages. Neither she nor her chum suffered from social ambition or a feeling of inferiority.

At Andover, Miss Frome drove the car to the City Club and parked it beside a long row of other automobiles, many of which were under the charge of uniformed chauffeurs.

“Oh, dear,” remarked Miss Frome nervously, “I didn’t realize how shabby my old coupe looks. I do hope no one notices.”

“Now don’t start that, Aunty,” Louise said, taking her by the arm. “Your car is perfectly all right. And so are you.”

They went up the steps of the stone building and mingled with the other women. So many persons were present that the three newcomers attracted no attention. Miss Frome was reassured to see that she was as well dressed as anyone in the room.

Several long tables were covered with various articles offered for sale. Penny and Louise wandered about examining objects which struck their fancy. Miss Frome bought a vase and an imitation ivory elephant, but the girls considered the prices too high for their purses.

Presently, Penny’s gaze was drawn to a young woman who stood behind one of the tables at the far end of the room. She stopped short and stared.

“See someone you know?” inquired Louise.

“Why, that young woman with the dark hair and the lace dress, Louise! She is Sylvia Kippenberg!”

“Really? I must say she has courage to come here today after all that happened!”

The young woman did not realize that she was being subjected to scrutiny. However, she seemed fully aware that she was a general object of curiosity, for her lips were frozen in a set smile and her face was pale despite the rouge on the smooth cheeks.

“I suppose she must be on the bazaar committee,”Louise went on. “But my, if anyone had jilted me, I would not have come here today.”

“Jerry must have missed his interview after all,”Penny murmured, half to herself.

“Jerry?”

“Yes, Dad assigned him to the Kippenberg story. I suppose he drove to Corbin today in the hope of seeing Miss Sylvia.”

“And she may have come here just to escape reporters.”

“For two cents I’d try to interview her myself,”Penny said.

“Do you think she would talk with you?”

“Not if she realizes I am a reporter. But at least I can try.”

“Don’t create a scene whatever you do,” Louise warned uneasily. “Not that I would mind. But Aunt Lucinda would die of mortification.”

“I’ll try to be careful,” Penny promised.

She sauntered forward, gradually working toward the table where the young woman served. Selecting an article at random from the display, she inquired its price.

“Ten dollars,” Miss Kippenberg answered mechanically.

Penny loitered at the table until two elderly women had moved on. She was now alone with Sylvia Kippenberg. She would have no better opportunity to speak with her.

“Miss Kippenberg,” she began.

“Yes?” The young woman really gazed at the girl for the first time. Penny saw that her eyelids were red and swollen from recent tears.

“I should like to talk with you alone, please.”

“Do I know your name?” Miss Kippenberg asked coldly.

“Penny Parker.”

“Parker—Parker,” the young woman repeated and her eyes hardened. “Oh, yes, you are the girl who came to our place yesterday with that photographer! And you telephoned again this morning.”