Part 22 (2/2)
”Think you can get it?” he demanded gruffly.
”Why not?”
”Two of our reporters already have failed. The high monkey-monk out there won't allow any of our men in the building.”
”Then you'd like a story?”
”Sure. We're interested in what's going on out there.” Mr. DeWitt slashed a page of corrected copy in half with his long scissors. He dropped one section onto the floor and the other into the copy basket. ”Learn anything worth while out there today?”
”Nothing worthy of print. If you'll a.s.sign me to the story I'll go back tonight. I think I can get inside again.”
”Okay, give me a ring if you run into anything interesting. Your father know you're going?”
”Well, I haven't told him yet.”
”Be sure you do,” said Mr. DeWitt, looking her straight in the eyes. ”I don't want to find myself sitting behind the eight ball!”
”Oh, I'll let Dad know,” Penny a.s.sured him hastily. ”I'll do it now.”
However, her father was in conference, so after waiting around the office a little while, she decided to talk the matter over with him when he came home for dinner.
In the elevator, leaving the office, Penny ran into Jerry Livingston.
Hearing of the a.s.signment, he looked a little worried.
”Think you ought to go out to the monastery alone at night?” he inquired.
”I don't see why not, Jerry.”
”I've not met Father Benedict myself,” Jerry said, ”but one of our reporters who was out there yesterday, didn't like his appearance. I'll bet a cent your father refuses to let you go.”
”I hope not,” Penny said anxiously. ”I'll put up a big argument.”
”What time you leaving?” Jerry asked as the elevator let them out on the main floor.
”Early. Maybe around seven o'clock.”
”Well, good luck,” Jerry said. ”I suppose it's all right, or DeWitt wouldn't have given you the a.s.signment.”
Parting company with the reporter, Penny stopped briefly at the Riverview Hotel to inquire if Mr. Ayling had returned from Chicago. He had not checked in.
”Queer he doesn't come after sending that telegram,” she thought. ”I wonder what's delaying him?”
Arriving home a few minutes later, Penny heard the sound of pounding as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weems was sc.r.a.ping carrots at the sink.
”Did you have a good time skiing?” the housekeeper inquired.
”Fair.” Penny stripped off her mittens and hung them on a radiator.
”Snow's melting fast today. What's that awful pounding?”
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