Part 5 (1/2)
”The man or his wife probably is visiting relatives here, or possibly just pa.s.sing through the city.”
”And there's no way to trace them,” Penny said, aghast. ”Oh, Salt, I've not only lost your pictures, but your camera as well!”
”Cheer up,” Salt said brusquely. ”It's not that bad. We're sunk on the pictures, that's sure. But unless the people are dishonest, I'll get the camera again. I'll write a letter to Silbus City, or if necessary, go there myself.”
Penny had little to say as she rode back to the _Star_ office with the photographer. Editor DeWitt was not in the newsroom when they returned, but they found him in the composing room, shouting at the printers who were ”making up the paper” to include the explosion story.
Seeing Penny and Salt, he whirled around to face them. ”Get any good pictures?” he demanded.
”We lost all of 'em,” Salt confessed, his face long.
”You what?”
”Lost the pictures. The mob tore into us, and we were lucky to get back alive.”
DeWitt's stony gaze fastened briefly upon Salt's scratched face and torn clothing, ”One of the biggest stories of the year, and you lose the pictures!” he commented.
”It was my fault,” Penny broke in. ”I tossed the camera and plates into a pa.s.sing car. I was trying to save them, but it didn't work out that way.”
DeWitt's eyebrows jerked upward and he listened without comment as Penny told the story. Then he said grimly: ”That's fine! That's just dandy!”
and stalked out of the composing room.
Penny gazed despairingly at Salt.
”If you hadn't told him it was your fault, he'd have taken it okay,” Salt sighed. ”Oh, well, it was the only thing to do. Anyway, there's one consolation. He can't fire you.”
”I wish he would. Salt, I feel worse than a worm.”
”Oh, buck up, Penny! Things like this happen. One has to learn to take the breaks.”
”Nothing like this ever happened before--I'm sure of that,” Penny said dismally. ”What ought I to do, Salt?”
”Not a thing,” he a.s.sured her. ”Just show up for work tomorrow the same as ever and don't think any more about it. I'll get the camera back, and by tomorrow DeWitt will have forgotten everything.”
”You're very optimistic,” Penny returned. ”Very optimistic indeed.”
Not wis.h.i.+ng to return through the newsroom, she slipped down the back stairs and took a bus home. The Parker house stood on a knoll high above the winding river and was situated in a lovely district of Riverview.
Only a few blocks away lived Louise Sidell, who was Penny's closest friend.
Reluctant to face her father, Penny lingered for a while in the dark garden, snipping a few roses. But presently a kitchen window flew up, and Mrs. Maude Weems, the family housekeeper called impatiently:
”Penny Parker, is that you prowling around out there? We had our dinner three hours ago. Will you please come in and explain what kept you so long?”
Penny drew a deep sigh and went in out of the night. Mrs. Weems stared at her in dismay as she entered the kitchen.
”Why, what have you done to yourself!” she exclaimed.
”Nothing.”
”You look dreadful! Your hair isn't combed--your face is dirty--and your clothes! Why, they smell of smoke!”