Page 12 of The Secret Pact


  CHAPTER 11 _MR. JUDSON'S DAUGHTER_

  Penny read the message three times. Obviously, it had been placed on herdesk during the few minutes she had been absent. Yet she reasoned that itwould be useless to search for the cowardly person who undoubtedly hadslipped from the building.

  "So I am warned to close shop!" she muttered angrily. "And the _WeeklyTimes_ offends public taste!"

  Penny crumpled the paper into a ball, hurling it toward the wire basket.Reconsidering her action, she recovered the note and, carefully smoothingthe wrinkles, placed it in her purse.

  "I'll show this to Dad," she told herself. "But no one else."

  When Penny's anger had cooled she was left with a vague sensation ofmisgiving. Resolutely she reflected that it was not unusual for editorsto receive threatening notes. Often her father had shown her suchcommunications sent to the _Star_ by cranks.

  "It doesn't mean a thing," she assured herself. "Not a thing. I'll keepon publishing the _Weekly_ as long as I please."

  One fact contributed to Penny's uneasiness. Often she worked late in thebuilding, and a single light burning from an upper story windowproclaimed to any street watcher that she was alone. In the future shemust use far more caution.

  Try as she would, Penny could not forget the warning. After the boys whocomprised the advertising staff had gone home for dinner, she caughtherself listening tensely to every unusual sound. At length she shut thedesk and arose.

  "I'm doing no good here," she thought in disgust. "I may as well gohome."

  Taking particular care to lock all doors and windows, Penny left thebuilding. Street lights were blinking on as she climbed into the parkedautomobile.

  Driving mechanically, she weaved through downtown traffic, now and thenhalting for a red light. As she was starting ahead from an intersection,an elderly man suddenly stepped from the curb. His gaze was upon thepavement, and he did not see the car.

  Penny swerved the wheel and slammed on the foot brake. The edge of thefender brushed the man's overcoat. He gasped in astonishment andstaggered backwards.

  Penny brought the car to a standstill at the curb.

  "You're not hurt?" she called anxiously.

  "No--no," the man murmured in a bewildered way.

  As he turned his face toward her, Penny recognized Matthew Judson, theformer publisher of the _Morning Press_. Calling him by name, she invitedhim into the car.

  "Let me take you home, or wherever you are going," she urged. "You don'tlook well, Mr. Judson. I am afraid I frightened you."

  "It was my fault," admitted the old gentleman, staring at Penny. "I--Iwas thinking about something when I stepped from the curb."

  "This is a dangerous intersection. Please, Mr. Judson, can't I take youhome?"

  "If you insist," he murmured, entering the car. "You seem to know myname, but I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance."

  "I'm Penny Parker. My father publishes the _Star_."

  "Oh, yes." Mr. Judson's voice became spiritless.

  "Your home is on Drexel Boulevard, I believe?" Penny inquired.

  Matthew Judson nodded and in the same dull, lifeless voice supplied theaddress. He made no attempt at conversation.

  As she stole occasional glimpses at the man, Penny thought that his facebore lines of mental fatigue and discouragement. He stared straight aheadwith glazed, unseeing eyes.

  Hoping to start a conversation, she presently remarked that she was themanaging editor of the _Weekly Times_. For the first time Matthew Judsondisplayed interest.

  "Oh, are you the girl who has taken over my building?" he asked.

  "Yes, Mr. Veeley allows me the use of it rent free. I hope you don'tmind?"

  "Mind?" repeated Mr. Judson, laughing mirthlessly. "Why should I?"

  "Well, I thought--that is--" Penny began to stammer.

  "You thought that because I gave up my own paper I might not wish to seethe building used by another?"

  "Something like that," admitted Penny.

  "I try not to think about the past," said Mr. Judson quietly. "Long ago Imade my decision, and now must abide by it. I realize that I never canpublish the _Press_ again. I'm broken, beaten!"

  The old man spoke with such bitterness that Penny glanced quickly at him.There was an expression in his dark eyes which startled her.

  "Surely one can't be defeated as long as he's willing to fight," sheventured. "Why, if you chose to make a come-back, I'm certain you wouldsucceed."

  Mr. Judson shook his head impatiently. "You don't understand. I amthrough--finished. All I can hope to do is to hold fast to what little Ihave, and try to protect Pauletta."

  "Pauletta is your wife?" Penny inquired kindly.

  "My daughter. If it weren't for her--" Mr. Judson hesitated, thenfinished in a voice quite casual: "If it weren't for her, I probablywould end it all."

  Penny was shocked.

  "Why, Mr. Judson!" she protested. "You can't mean that!"

  "Don't be alarmed," he said, smiling faintly. "I have no intention oftaking the easy way out."

  A dozen questions flashed through Penny's mind, but she was afraid to askany of them. From Mr. Judson's remarks it was fairly evident that henever had relinquished the _Press_ voluntarily. Could financialdifficulties alone account for his state of mental depression?

  In the darkening twilight the car approached a white-painted brick house,set back some distance from the boulevard. Once an elegant dwelling,peeling paint had made it an unsightly residence. Roof shingles werecurling, the front porch sagged, while an iron fence only partially hid awide expanse of untended lawn.

  "This is my home," said Mr. Judson. "Turn into the driveway if you wish."

  Penny stopped the car just inside the iron gate.

  As Mr. Judson alighted, a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties,arose from a bench. A white collie at her side, she came toward the car.Midway across the lawn, she paused, staring. Then, she half turned as ifto retreat.

  "Pauletta," called Mr. Judson. "Will you come here, please?"

  Reluctantly the girl approached the car, her gaze meeting Penny's almostdefiantly. Pauletta was a beautiful girl with auburn hair and steel-blueeyes.

  "Pauletta, this is Miss Parker," said her father.

  "How do you do," responded the girl coldly.

  The instant Penny heard the voice she knew where she previously had seenMr. Judson's daughter--on the steamer _Goodtime_! Pauletta was the girlwho had tossed a wig and clothing into the river.

  "How do you do, Miss Judson," she responded. "Haven't we met before?"

  Pauletta kept her face averted from her father. She met Penny's gaze witha bold stare.

  "I think not," she said evenly. "No, Miss Parker, you are mistaken."