She reached the bottom at last and followed a narrow sloping tunnel, past a large refrigerated vault which she reasoned must contain a vast supply of additional furs, and kept on until a blast of cool air struck her face. Penny drew up sharply.
Directly ahead, at a bend in the tunnel, sat an armed guard. He was reading a newspaper in the dim light, holding it very close to the glaring bulb above his chair.
Penny dared go no farther. Quietly retreating the way she had come, she stole back up the long stairway. At the top landing she found herself confronted with a blank wall. After groping about for several minutes, her hand encountered a tiny switch similar to the one on the opposite side of the partition. She pressed it, and the wall section revolved.
Letting herself out of the storage closet, Penny started toward the door, only to pause as she heard one of the teletypes thumping out a message. She crossed over to the machine and stood waiting until the line had been finished and a bell jingled. The words were unintelligible in jumbled typewriting, and Penny had no time to work out the code.
Tearing the copy paper neatly across, she thrust it in the pocket of her jacket.
Fearing that at any moment the printer attendant might return, Penny dared linger no longer. She went to the door but to her surprise it would not open.
“Probably a special trick catch which automatically locks whenever closed,” she thought. “The only way to get in or out is with a key, and I haven’t one. That means I’ll have to risk my neck again.”
Going to the window she raised it and looked down. All was clear below. Two courses lay open to her. She could return the way she had come through the hotel, or she might edge along the shelf past two other windows to the fire escape, and thence to the ground. Either way was fraught with danger.
“If I should happen to meet Ralph Fergus or Harvey Maxwell, I might not get away with my information,” Penny decided. “I’ll try the fire-escape.”
Closing the window behind her, she flattened herself along the building wall, and moved cautiously along the ledge. She passed the first room in safety. Then, as she was about to crawl past the second, the square of window suddenly flared with light.
For a dreadful moment Penny thought that she had been seen. She huddled against the wall and waited. Nothing happened.
At last, regaining her courage, she dared to peep into the lighted room. Two men stood with their backs to the window, but she recognized them as Harvey Maxwell and Ralph Fergus.
Penny received a distinct shock as her gaze wandered to the third individual who sat in a chair by the bed. The man was old Peter Jasko.
A low rumble of voices reached the girl’s ears. Harvey Maxwell was speaking:
“Well, Jasko, have you thought it over? Are you ready to sign the lease?”
“I’ll have the law on you, if I ever get out of here!” the old man said spiritedly. “You’re keepin’ me against my will.”
“You’ll stay here, Jasko, until you come to your senses. We need that land, and we mean to have it. Understand?”
“You won’t get me to sign, not if you keep me here all night,” Mr. Jasko muttered. “Not if you keep me a year!”
“You may change your mind after you learn what we can do,” said Harvey Maxwell suavely.
“You aim to starve me, I reckon.”
“Oh, no, nothing so crude as that, my dear fellow. In fact, we shall treat you most kindly. Doctor Corbin will be here presently to examine you.”
“Doctor Corbin! That old quack from Morgantown! What are you bringing him here for?”
Harvey Maxwell smiled and tapped his head significantly.
“To give you a mental examination. You are known to the good people of Pine Top as a very peculiar fellow, so I doubt if anyone will question Doctor Corbin’s verdict.”
“You mean, you’re aimin’ to have me adjudged insane?” Peter Jasko asked incredulously.
“Exactly. How else can one explain your fanatical hatred of skiing, your blind rages, your antagonism to the more progressive interests? While it will be a pity to bring disgrace upon your charming granddaughter, there is no other way.”
“Not unless you decide to sign,” added Ralph Fergus. “We’re more than reasonable. We’re willing to pay you a fair price for the lease, more than the land is worth. But we want it, see? And what we want we take.”
“You’re a couple of thievin’, stealin’ crooks!” Peter Jasko shouted.
“Not so loud, and be careful of your words,” Harvey Maxwell warned. “Or the gag goes on again.”
“Which do you prefer,” Fergus went on. “A tidy little sum of money, or the asylum?”
Peter Jasko maintained a sullen silence, glaring at the two hotel men.
“The doctor will be here at ten-thirty,” said Harvey Maxwell, looking at his watch. “You will have less than a half hour to decide.”
“My mind’s made up now! You won’t get anyone to believe your cock and bull story. I’ll tell ’em you brought me here and held me prisoner—”
“And no one will believe you,” smiled Maxwell. “We’ll give out that you came to the hotel and started running amuck. Dozens of employes will confirm the story.”
“For that matter, I’m not sure you don’t belong in an asylum,” muttered Fergus. “Only a man who isn’t in his right mind would turn down the liberal proposition we’ve made you.”
“I deal with no scoundrels!” the old man defied them.
Harvey Maxwell looked at his watch again. “You have exactly twenty-five minutes in which to make up your mind, Jasko. We’ll leave you alone to think it over.”
Fergus trussed up the old man’s hands and placed a gag in his mouth. Then the two hotel men left the room, turning out the light and locking the door behind them.
After the door had closed there was no further sound for a moment. Then in the darkness Penny heard a choked sob.
Moving closer to the window she tried to raise it. Failing, she tapped lightly on the pane. Pressing her lips close to the glass she called softly:
“Don’t be afraid, Mr. Jasko! Keep up your courage! I’ll find a way to get you out!”
The old man could not answer so she had no way of knowing whether or not he heard her words. Moving back along the ledge she reached another window, and upon testing it was elated to find that it could be raised up.
She climbed through, lowered it behind her and hastened to the door. Quietly letting herself out, she went down the deserted hall to the next door. Without a key she could not hope to get inside. For a fleeting instant she wondered if she were not making a mistake by delaying in starting after the authorities.
“I never could get back here in time,” she told herself. “Maxwell will return in twenty-five minutes with the doctor, possibly earlier. Jasko may sign the paper before help could reach him.”
Penny was at a loss to know how to aid the old man. As she stood debating, the cleaning woman whom she had seen upon another occasion, came down the hall. The girl determined upon a bold move.
“I wonder if you could help me?” she said, going to meet the woman. “I’ve locked myself out of my room. Do you have a master key?”
“Yes, it will unlock most of the bedrooms.”
“The doors on this floor?”
“All except number 27.”
Penny took a two dollar bill from her jacket pocket and thrust it into the woman’s hand.
“Here, take this, and let me have the key.”
“I can’t give it to you,” the woman protested. “Show me your room and I’ll unlock it for you.”
“We’re standing in front of it now. Number 29.”
The woman stared. “But these rooms aren’t usually given out, Miss.”
“I assure you number 29 is very much occupied,” replied Penny. “Unlock it, please.”
The woman hesitated, and finally inserted the key in the lock.
“Thank you,” said Penny as she heard the latch click. “No, keep the two dollars. You are welcome to it.”
She waited until the maid had gone on down the hall before letting herself into the dark room. Groping for the electric switch, she turned it on.
“Mr. Jasko, you know me,” she whispered as the old man blinked and stared at her almost stupidly. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
She jerked the gag from his mouth, and unfastened the cords which bound his wrists.
“We don’t dare go through the hotel lest we be seen,” she told him. “I think we may be able to get out by means of the fire escape. If luck is only with us—”
Making certain that the coast was clear, Penny led the old man down the hall to a room which she knew would be opposite the fire escape. She was afraid it would be locked, but to her intense relief it had not been secured.
Only a minute was required to cross the room, raise the window and help Peter Jasko through it.
“I can’t come with you,” she said. “I have something else to do. Now listen closely. I want you to go to Pine Top as fast as you can and bring the sheriff or the police or whoever it is that would have authority to arrest Fergus and Maxwell.”
“I aim to do that on my own account,” the old man muttered. “I’ve got a debt to square with them.”
“We both have,” said Penny. “Now this is what I want you to do. If I’m not in evidence when you get back, bring the police to the Green Room.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s on this same floor. You go down the hall to the left, enter an unmarked door into another corridor, and finally through a green door which may be guarded. If necessary, force an entrance.”
“I don’t know what it’s all about,” the old man muttered. “But I’ll do as you say.”
“And hurry!” Penny urged.
She watched anxiously from the window until Peter Jasko had reached the bottom of the fire escape in safety. He ran across the yard, gaining the roadway without having been observed.
Returning once more to the main corridor, Penny glanced anxiously up and down. Hearing someone moving about at the far end of the hall, she went to investigate, certain that it was the cleaning woman putting away her mops and broom.
“You ain’t locked out again?” the maid asked as she saw Penny standing beside her.
“No, but I have another request. How would you like to earn some more money?”
“How?” inquired the woman with quick interest.
“Do you have an extra costume?”
“Costume?”
“Dress, I mean. Like one you’re wearing.”
“Not here.” As the maid spoke she divested herself of an old pair of shoes, and setting them back against the closet wall, slipped on a pair of much better looking ones. “I’m changing my clothes now to go home.”
“I’ll give you another two dollars if you’ll lend me the outfit for the evening.”
“Is it for a party?” the maid asked.
“A masquerade,” said Penny. “I want to play a little joke on some acquaintances of mine.”
She waved another bill before the woman’s eyes, and the temptation of making easy money was too great to resist.
“All right, I’ll do it,” the maid agreed. “Just wait outside until I get my clothes changed.”
Penny waited, watching the halls anxiously lest she be observed by someone who would recognize her. Soon the maid stepped from the closet, and handed over a bundle of clothing.
“And here is your money,” said Penny. “Don’t mention to anyone what we’ve done—at least not until tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Miss, I won’t,” replied the woman grimly. “I might lose my job if they caught me.”
After the maid had gone away, Penny slipped into the closet and quickly changed into the costume. Pulling off her cap, she rumpled her hair and rubbed a streak of dirt across her face. The shoes were a trifle too large for her, and their size, together with the painful ankle, made her walk in a dragging fashion.
Snatching up a feather duster, she went hurriedly down the hall toward the corridor which led to the Green Room. As always, the guard sat in his chair by the door. But this time Penny had high hopes of gaining entrance.
Boldly, she walked over to him and said: “Good evening. I was sent to tell you you’re wanted in the office by Mr. Maxwell.”
“Now?” he inquired in surprise.
“Yes, right away.”
“Someone ought to stay here.”
“I’ll wait until you get back.”
“Don’t let anyone inside unless they have passes,” the guard instructed.
Penny barely could hide her excitement. It had been almost too easy! At last she was to penetrate beyond the Green Door! And if she found what she expected, the entire mystery would be cleared up. She would gain evidence against Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell which would make her case iron-clad.
From within the room, Penny could hear the low murmur of voices. She waited until the guard had disappeared, and then, summoning her courage, opened the green door and stepped inside.
Penny found herself in an elegantly furnished salon, its chairs, davenports, carpet and draperies decorated in soft shades of green and ivory. A little dark-haired man she had never seen before, who spoke with an artificial French accent, stood talking with three women who were trying on fur coats. A fourth woman, Maxine Miller, sat in a chair, her back turned to Penny.
“Now Henri, I want you to give my friends a good price on their coats,” she was saying in a chirpy voice.
“Oui” he agreed, bobbing his head up and down. “We say one hundred and ninety-two dollars for zis beautiful sealskin coat. I make you a special price only because you are friends of Mademoiselle Miller.”
The opening of the outside door had drawn Henri’s attention briefly to Penny. As she busied herself dusting, he paid her no heed, and Maxine Miller did not give the girl a second glance.
Penny wandered slowly about the room, noting the long mirrors and the tall cases crowded with racks of sealskin coats.
“These are smuggled furs,” she thought. “This Green Room is the sales salon, and Henri must be an employee of Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell. I believe I know how they get the furs over the Canadian border, too, without paying duty!”
Satisfied that she could learn no more by lingering, Penny turned down the long corridor leading to the door which opened on the main hallway. She knew that the guard would soon discover he had been tricked and expose her. And while she had been inside the salon less than five minutes, already she had waited a moment too long.
As she opened the door she saw Harvey Maxwell and the guard coming down the corridor toward her. Retreat was out of the question.
“There she is now!” said the guard, accusingly. “She told me you wanted me in the office.”
Harvey Maxwell walked angrily toward Penny.
“What was the big idea?” he began, only to stop short. “Oh, so it’syou? My dear little girl, I am very much afraid, you have over-played your hand this time!”
Penny sought to push past the two men, but Harvey Maxwell caught her roughly by the arm.
“Unfortunately, my dear Miss Parker, you have observed certain things which you may not understand,” he said. “Lest you misinterpret them, and are inclined to run to your father with fantastic tales, you must be detained here. Now I have a great distaste for violence. I trust it will not be necessary to use force now.”
“Let me go,” Penny cried, trying to jerk away.
“Take her, Frank,” instructed the hotel man. “For the time being put her in the tunnel room. I’ll be down as soon as I talk with Ralph.”
Before Penny could scream, a hand was clapped over her mouth. The guard, Frank, held her in a firm grip from which she could not free herself.
“Get going!” he commanded.
But Penny braced her feet and stood perfectly still. From the outside corridor she had heard a low rumble of voices. Then Ralph Fergus spoke above the others, in an exasperated, harassed tone:
“This old man is crazy, I tell you! We never kept him a prisoner in our hotel. We have a Green Room, to be sure, but it is rented out to a man named Henri Croix who is in the fur business.”
Penny’s pulse quickened. Peter Jasko had carried out her order and had brought the police!
Harvey Maxwell and the guard well comprehended their danger. With a quick jerk of his head the hotel man indicated a closet where Penny could be secreted. As the two men tried to pull her to it, she sunk her teeth into Frank’s hand. His hold over her mouth relaxed for an instant, but that instant was enough. She screamed at the top of her lungs.
The outside door swung open. Led by Peter Jasko, the sheriff and several deputies filed into the corridor. Ralph Fergus did not follow, and Penny saw him trying to slip away.
“Don’t let that man escape!” she cried. “Arrest him!”
Peter Jasko himself overtook Fergus and brought him back.
“I’ve got a score to settle with you,” he muttered. “You ain’t a good enough talker to get out of this.”
“Gentlemen—” It was Harvey Maxwell who spoke, and his tone was irritated. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
“We’ve had a complaint,” said the sheriff. “Jasko here says you kept him a prisoner in the hotel, trying to make him sign a paper.”
“The old fellow is right in a way,” replied Mr. Maxwell. “Not about the paper. We did detain him here for his own good, and he managed to get away. I regret to say he went completely out of his mind, became violent, threatened our guests, and it was necessary to hold him until the doctor could arrive. We’ve already sent for Doctor Corbin.”
“That’s just what I was telling them,” added Ralph Fergus.
“Now let me speak my piece,” said Penny. “Peter Jasko was held a prisoner here because Fergus and Maxwell wanted him to sign a paper leasing his ski slopes to the hotel. That was only one of their many little stunts. Fergus and Maxwell are the heads of a gigantic fur smuggling business, and they use their hotels merely as a legitimate front.”
“Your proof?” demanded Harvey Maxwell sarcastically. “The real truth is that I am suing this girl’s father for libel. He sent her here to try to dig up something against me. She’s using every excuse she can find to involve me in affairs about which I know nothing.”
“If you want proof, I’ll furnish it,” said Penny. “Just step into the Green Room where Henri Croix, a phony Frenchman, is engaged in selling fur coats to three ladies.”
“There’s no crime in that,” declared Ralph Fergus angrily. “Mr. Croix pays the hotel three hundred dollars a month for the use of this wing. So far as we know his business is legitimate. If for any reason we learn it is not, we will be the first to ask for an investigation.”
“Not quite the first,” smiled Penny, “for I’ve already made the request. To go on with my proof, it might be well to investigate Room 27 on this same floor.”
“Room 27 is given over to our teletype service,” interrupted Maxwell. “Our guests like to get the stock reports, you know, and that is why we have the machines.”
“In Room 27 you will find a storage vault for furs,” Penny went on, thoroughly enjoying herself. “A panel revolves, opening the way to a secret stair which leads down into the basement of the hotel. I’m not certain about the rest—”
“No?” demanded Maxwell ironically.
“There are additional storage vaults in the basement,” Penny resumed. “A man is down there guarding what appears to be a tunnel. Tell me, is this hotel close to the old silver mine?”
“About a quarter of a mile from the entrance,” replied the sheriff. “Some of the tunnels might come right up to the hotel grounds.”
“I understand the hotel bought out the mine, and I believe they may be making use of the old tunnels. At least, the place will bear an investigation. Oh, yes, this paper came off one of the teletype machines.”
Penny took the torn sheet from her pocket and gave it to the sheriff.
“I can’t read it,” he said, frowning.
“Code,” explained Penny. “If I had a typewriter I could figure it out. Suppose we go to Room 27 now. I’m positive you’ll learn that my story is not as fantastic as it seems.”
Leaving Peter Jasko and two deputies to guard Fergus and Maxwell and to see that no one left the Green Room, Penny led the sheriff and four other armed men down the hall. In her excitement she failed to observe Francine Sellberg standing by the elevator, watching intently.
“Here are the teletype machines,” Penny indicated, pausing beside them. “Now let me have that message. I think I can read it.”
Studying the keyboard of the teletype for a moment, she wrote out her translation beneath the jumbled line of printing. It read:
“Train Arrives approximately 11:25.”
“What does that mean?” the sheriff inquired. “We have no trains at Pine Top.”
“We’ll see,” chuckled Penny.
She showed the men the vault filled with furs, and pressed the spring which opened the wall panel.
“Be careful in descending the stairway,” she warned. “I know they have one guard down there and possibly others.”
Sheriff Clausson and his men went ahead of Penny. The guard, taken completely by surprise, was captured without a shot being fired.
“Now what have we here?” the sheriff inquired, peering into the dimly lighted tunnel.
As far as one could see stretched a narrow, rusted track with an extra rail.
“A miniature electric railway!” exclaimed the sheriff.
“How far is it from here to the border?” inquired Penny thoughtfully.
“Not more than a mile.”
“I’ve been told Harvey Maxwell has a hotel located in Canada.”
“Yeah,” nodded the sheriff, following her thought. “We’ve known for years that furs were being smuggled, but we never once suspected the outfit was located here at Pine Top. And no wonder. This scheme is clever, so elaborate a fellow never would think of it. The underground railroad, complete with drainage pumps, storage rooms and electric lights, crosses the border and connects with the Canadian hotel. Fergus and Maxwell buy furs cheap and send them here without paying duty.”
“And teletype communication is maintained just as it is on a real railroad,” added Penny. “Fergus and Maxwell must have bought up the old mine just so they could make use of the tunnels. And they wanted to get rid of Mrs. Downey’s Inn so there would be no possible danger of a leak. How large do you suppose the smuggling ring is, Mr. Clausson?”
“Large enough. Likely it will take weeks to get all of the guilty persons rounded up. But I’m satisfied we have the main persons.”
“If I interpreted the code message right, a fur train should be coming in about eleven-thirty.”
“My men will be waiting,” the sheriff said grimly. “I’ll get busy now and tip off the Canadian authorities, so they can close in on the gang from the other end of the line.”
“What about Fergus and Maxwell?” asked Penny. “There’s no chance they can trump up a story and get free?”
“Not a chance,” returned the sheriff gruffly. “You’ve done your work, and now I’ll do mine.”
Penny started to turn away, then paused. “Oh, may I ask a favor?”
“I reckon you’ve earned it,” the sheriff answered, a twinkle in his eye.
“There’s one person involved in this mess who isn’t really to blame. An actress named Maxine Miller. She’s only been working for the hotel a few days, and I doubt if she knows what it’s all about.”
“We’ll give her every benefit of the doubt,” promised the sheriff. “I’ll remember the name. Miller.”
In a daze of excitement Penny rushed back up the stairway to the Green Room. Fergus and Maxwell, Henri Croix, and Maxine Miller were in custody, all angrily protesting their innocence. The commotion had brought many hotel guests to the scene. Questions were flying thick and fast.
Penny drew Peter Jasko aside to talk with him privately.
“I think you ought to go to Mrs. Downey’s lodge as soon as you can,” she urged. “Sara is there, and she’s dreadfully worried about you.”
“I’ll go now,” the old man said, offering his gnarled hand. “Much obliged for all you done tonight.”
“That’s quite all right,” replied Penny. “I was lucky or I never would have discovered where those men were keeping you.”
The old man hesitated, obviously wishing to say something more, yet unable to find the words.
“I done some thinkin’ tonight,” he muttered. “I reckon I been too strict with Sara. From now on maybe I’ll let her have a looser rein.”
“And ski all she likes,” urged Penny. “I really can’t see the harm in it.”
“I been thinkin’ about that lease, too,” the old man added, not looking directly at the girl. “When I see Mrs. Downey tonight I’ll tell her I’m ready to sign.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Penny exclaimed. “With the Fergus-Maxwell hotel out of the running, she ought to have a comfortable time of it here on Pine Top mountain.”
“Thanks to you,” grinned Peter Jasko. He offered his hand again and Penny gave it a firm pressure.
“I must hurry now,” she said. “This is a tremendous story, and I want to telegraph it to Dad before Francine Sellberg beats me to the jump.”
“Sellberg?” repeated the old man. “She ain’t that girl reporter that’s been stayin’ here at the hotel?”
Penny nodded.
“Then you better step,” he advised. “She’s on her way to the village now.”
“But how could Francine have learned about it so soon?” Penny wailed in dismay.
“I saw her talking with one of the deputies. She was writing things down in a notebook.”
“She couldn’t have learned everything, but probably enough to ruin my story. When did Francine leave, Mr. Jasko?”
“All of fifteen minutes ago.”
“Then I never can overtake her,” Penny murmured. “This is absolutely the worst break yet! Francine will reach the telegraph office first and hold the wire so I can’t use it. After all my work, her paper will get the big scoop!”
Penny knew that she had only one chance of getting her story through to Riverview, and that was by means of long distance telephone. At best, instead of achieving a scoop as she had hoped, she would have only an even break with her rival. And if connections could not be quickly made, she would lose out altogether.
Hastily saying goodbye to Peter Jasko, Penny raced for the stairway. She did not have a word of her story written down. While she could give the facts to a rewrite man it would take him some time to get the article into shape.
“Vic Henderson writes such colorless stories, too,” she moaned to herself. “He’ll be afraid some fact isn’t accurate and he’ll jerk it out. This is the one yarn I want to write myself!”
Penny ran full tilt into Sheriff Clausson. She brought up shortly, observing that he had a prisoner in custody.
“Miss Parker, we caught this fellow down in the tunnel,” he said. “Can you identify him?”
“I’m not sure of his name. He works for Fergus and Maxwell as a teletype attendant. He may be George Jewitt.”
Penny started to hasten on, and then struck by a sudden idea, paused. Addressing the prisoner she demanded:
“Isn’t it true that there is a direct wire connection between this hotel and the one in Riverview?”
The man did not speak.
“You may as well answer up,” said the sheriff. “It’s something which can be checked easily.”
“Yes, there is a direct connection,” answered the attendant.
“And if I know anything about leased wires,” continued Penny with mounting excitement, “it would be possible to have the telephone company switch that wire right over to theRiverview Staroffice. Then I’d have a direct connection from here to the newspaper. Right?”
“Right except for one minor detail,” the man retorted sarcastically. “The telephone company won’t make a switch just to oblige a little girl.”
Penny’s face fell. “I suppose they wouldn’t do it,” she admitted. “But what a whale of an idea! I could send my story directly to the newspaper, and get my scoop after all. As it is, theRecordis almost certain to beat me.”
“Listen!” said the sheriff. “Maybe the telephone company couldn’t make the switch on your say-so, but they’ll pay attention to an order from me. You get busy writing that story, young lady, and we’ll see what can be done.”
Sheriff Clausson turned his prisoner over to a deputy, and returned to find Penny busily scribbling on the back of an envelope, the only writing paper available. Together they went to the long distance telephone, and in a quicker time than the girl had dared hope, arrangements were made for the wire shift to be made.
“Now get up to Room 27 and start your story going out,” the sheriff urged. “Will you need the attendant to turn on the current for you?”
“No, I know how it’s done!” Penny declared. “You’re sure the connection has been made?”
“The telephone company reports everything is set. So go to it!”
Penny hobbled as fast as her injured ankle would permit to Room 27. She switched on the light, and turned on the current which controlled the teletype machines. Sitting down at a chair in front of the direct keyboard, she found herself trembling from excitement. She had practiced only a few times and was afraid she might make mistakes. Every word she wrote would be transmitted in exactly that form to a similar machine stationed in theStaroffice.
She could picture her father standing there, waiting, wondering what she would send. He had been warned that a big story was coming.
Penny consulted her envelope notes and began to tap the keys. Now and then she had moments of misgiving, wondering if her work was accurate, and if it were going through. She finished at last, and sat back with a weary sigh of relief. Her story was a good one. She knew that. But had it ever reached theStaroffice?
A machine to her right began its rhythmical thumping. Startled, Penny sprang to her feet and rushed over to see the message which was slowly printing itself across the copy paper.
“STORY RECEIVED OK. WONDERFUL STUFF. CAN YOU GET AN INTERVIEW WITH SHERIFF CLAUSSON?”
Penny laughed aloud, and went back to her own machine to tap out an answer. Her line had a flippant note:
“I’LL HAUL HIM UP HERE AS SOON AS THE 11:30 TRAIN COMES IN. LET ME TALK TO DAD.”
There was a little wait and then the return message came in over the other teletype.
“YOU’VE BEEN TALKING WITH HIM. AM SENDING SALT SOMMERS BY PLANE TO GET PICTURES. SORRY I DIDN’T TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU WROTE MAXWELL WAS INVOLVED IN ILLEGAL BUSINESS AT PINE TOP. THIS OUGHT TO MOP UP HIS SUIT AGAINST THE PAPER. GREAT STUFF, PENNY! WHO UNCOVERED THE STORY?”
Chuckling to herself, Penny went back to her keyboard and tapped:
“DON’T ASK ME. I’M TRYING TO BE MODEST.”
She waited eagerly for the response and it came in a moment.
“I WAS AFRAID OF IT. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”
Thoroughly enjoying the little game of questions and answers, Penny once more tapped her message.
“FINE AS SILK. WHEN ARE YOU COMING TO PINE TOP? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE ME FOR XMAS? IT SHOULD BE SOMETHING GOOD AFTER THIS.”
Soon Mr. Parker’s reply appeared on the moving sheet of paper.
“SOON. PERHAPS SOMETHING WITH FOUR WHEELS AND A HORN.”
Penny scarcely could control herself long enough to send back:
“OH, YOU WONDERFUL DAD! I COULD HUG YOU! PLEASE MAKE IT MAROON WITH MOHAIR UPHOLSTERY. AND HANG A WREATH ON LEAPING LENA.”
Sinking back in her chair, Penny gazed dreamily at the ceiling. A new car! It was almost too good to believe. She knew that her father must have been swayed by excitement or else very grateful to offer such a magnificent Christmas present as that. What a night of thrills it had been! Within a few hours Pine Top would be crowded with reporters and photographers, but she had uncovered the story, and had saved her father from a disastrous lawsuit.
As Penny waited, her thoughts far away, one more message came through on the teletype. She tore it from the roller of the machine, and smiled as she read her father’s final words:
“PRESSES ROLLING. FIRST EDITION ON THE STREET AHEAD OF THE RECORD. THE STAR SCORES AGAIN. THIS IS ANTHONY PARKER SIGNING OFF FOR A CUP OF COFFEE.”
THE END