Signal in the Dark Part 7

"Of course not. I went downstairs to get a candy bar."

With a sigh, Elda pulled herself from the chair. She really did look as if she had undergone a bad fright, Penny observed. Feeling a trifle sorry for the girl, she helped her find the photograph, and they started with it to the newsroom.

"I'd not say anything about the shadow if I were you, Elda," Penny remarked.

"Why not, pray?"

"Well, it sounds rather silly."

"Oh, so I'm silly, am I?"

"I didn't say that, Elda. I said the idea of a shadow on the skylight struck me that way. Of course, if you want to be teased about it, why tell everyone."

"At least I didn't make a mess of an important story," Elda retorted, tossing her head.

"Elda, why do you dislike me?" Penny demanded suddenly.

The question was so unexpected that it threw the girl off guard. "Did I say I did?" she countered.

"It's obvious that you do."

"I'll tell you what I dislike," Elda said sharply. "The rest of us here have to work for our promotions. You'll get yours without even turning a hair--just because you're Mr. Parker's one and only daughter."

"But that's not true, Elda. I'm expected to earn my way the same as you.

I'm working at a beginner's salary."

"You can't expect me to believe that!"

"Was it because you thought I was making more money than you, that you changed the name on the Borman obituary?"

Elda stopped short. She tried to register indignation, but instead, only looked frightened. Penny was certain of her guilt.

"I haven't told Mr. DeWitt, and I don't intend to," she said quietly.

"But I'm warning you! If anything like that happens again, you'll answer for it!"

"Well, of all the nerve!" Elda exploded, but her voice lacked fire. "Of all the nerve!"

Penny deliberately walked away from her.

The day dragged on. At five-thirty Penny covered her typewriter and telephoned Mrs. Weems.

"I'll be late coming home tonight," she said apologetically. "I thought I might get dinner downtown and perhaps go to a show."

"Another hard day?" the housekeeper asked sympathetically.

"Much easier than yesterday," Penny said, making her voice sound cheerful. "Don't worry about me. I'll be home no later than nine."

Though she would not have confessed it even to herself, Penny was reluctant to meet her father at dinner time. He might not ask questions, but his all-knowing, all-seeing eyes would read her secrets. At a glance he could tell that newspaper work was not going well for her, and that she disliked it.

"I certainly won't give him an opportunity to even think, 'I told you so,'" she reflected. "Even if it kills me, I'll stick here, and I'll pretend to like it too!"

Because it was too early to dine, Penny walked aimlessly toward the river. She paused at a dock to watch two boys fis.h.i.+ng, and then sauntered on toward the pa.s.senger wharves.

A young man in an unpressed suit, and shoes badly in need of a s.h.i.+ne, leaned against one of the freight buildings. Seeing Penny, he pulled his hat low over his eyes, and became engrossed in lighting a cigarette.

She would have pa.s.sed him by without a second glance, save that he deliberately turned his back to s.h.i.+eld his face. The hunch of his shoulders struck her as strangely familiar.

Involuntarily, she exclaimed: "Ben! Ben Bartell!"

He turned then and she saw that she had not been mistaken. The young man indeed was a former reporter for the _Riverview Mirror_, a news magazine published weekly. Ben had not shaved that day, and he looked years older than when she last had seen him.

"h.e.l.lo, Penny," he said uncomfortably.

"Ben, what has happened to you?" she asked. "Why were you trying to avoid me?"

Ben did not reply for a moment. Then he said quietly: "Why should I want to see any of my old friends now? Just look at me and you have your answer."

"Why, Ben! You were one of the best reporters the _Mirror_ ever had!"

"_Were_ is right," returned Ben with a grim smile. "Haven't worked there for six months now. The truth is, I'm down and out."

"Why, that's ridiculous, Ben! Nearly every paper in town needs a good man."

"They don't need me."

"Ben, you sound so bitter! What has happened to you?"

"It's a long story, sister, and not for your dainty little ears."

Penny now was deeply troubled, for she had known Ben well and liked him.

"Ben, you must tell me," she urged, taking his arm. "We're going into a restaurant, and while we have dinner together, you must explain why you left the _Mirror_."

CHAPTER 6 _BEN'S STORY_

Ben held back.

"Thanks," he said uncomfortably, "but I think I ought to be moving on."

"Have you had your dinner?" Penny asked.

"Not yet."

"Then do come with me, Ben. Or don't you want to tell me what happened at the _Mirror_?"