The Secret Pact

  CHAPTER 13 _PAPER PROBLEMS_

  The next afternoon Penny and Louise arrived at the _Weekly Times_ to findthat the entire lower floor had been cleaned and swept. Old Horney wasdiscovered in the composing room, stirring up a great cloud of dust witha stub of a broom.

  "I was just cleaning the place up a bit," he said apologetically. "Hopeyou don't mind."

  "Mind?" laughed Penny. "I'm delighted. Our staff of janitors has lostinterest here of late."

  "I set a little type for you last night, too."

  "Why, Horney! I didn't know you were a linotype operator."

  "I'm not," answered the old man, "but I can learn most anything if I setmy mind to it. If you have any jobs you want done just turn them over tome."

  "Horney," said Penny soberly, "more than anything else I would like topublish the _Weekly_ in my own plant. The obstacles seem almost too greatto overcome; do you think it could be accomplished?"

  "Why, sure," said Horney. "If I had some tools and a little to do with Icould get the presses ready in a day."

  "What about the stereotyping work?"

  "I could master the trick of it," declared Horney confidently.

  "Horney, you're a jewel!" laughed Penny. "I'll place you in charge of myproduction department, but I fear I can't give you a salary in proportionto your duties."

  "Don't worry about that, Miss. I would rather be working than sittingaround with nothing to do."

  "Then look over the plant and make up a list of the things you musthave," suggested Penny. "I'll go over to the _Star_ this minute andarrange for printing paper."

  Leaving Louise in charge of the office, she jubilantly set forth for herfather's plant. Now that Old Horney had been added to the staff of the_Weekly_, problems which previously had seemed unsurmountable suddenlyhad become easily solved.

  Entering the _Star_ building, Penny went directly to the stockroom,wandering about until she found Mr. Curry, the foreman.

  "Here's something for you," she grinned, offering a slip of paper.

  "What's this?" Mr. Curry asked with a puzzled frown. "An order for a rollof paper?"

  "Yes, Mr. Curry," explained Penny. "At last I am going to publish my ownsheet over in the old _Press_ building. Dad is staking me to a littlepaper."

  "A little! Why, one of these big rolls would print more copies of yourpaper than you could sell in six months! And paper is expensive. Howabout a half-roll or even a quarter? It would be a lot easier to handle."

  "Oh, all right," agreed Penny. "Just so I get enough to print my firstissue."

  Mr. Curry led the way to one of the presses, pointing to a roll of papermounted on a feeding rack.

  "That one is about half used up," he said. "Will it do?"

  "Yes, I guess so," agreed Penny. "May I have it right away?"

  Mr. Curry replied by pushing a tram along a miniature railway which ranunder the press. With surprising skill, he maneuvered the roll intoposition on the carrier. Then he pushed the tram to the elevator, movedthe portable paper lift over the roll, and up it went to the platform.The elevator grounded at the first floor where the paper was rolled tothe loading dock with pry bars.

  "There you are," said the foreman.

  "All I need now is a truck," Penny cried exultantly. "Thanks, Mr. Curry!"

  Standing guard beside her paper she waited until one of the _Star_drivers had finished unloading his cargo and was ready to pull from thedock.

  "How's chances fer a ride, buddy?" asked Penny, jerking her thumb in themanner of a hitch-hiker. "Me and my paper to the _Weekly Times_."

  "Okay," laughed the trucker.

  He rolled the paper onto the truck, and Penny climbed into the cab besidehim. At the _Times_ building she had the roll set off at the rearentrance where Old Horney easily could get it to the press room.

  Highly elated, Penny mounted the steps two at a time, bursting in uponLouise who was busy writing headlines.

  "Got it!" she announced. "About six hundred pounds of paper. That shouldkeep the _Weekly_ going for awhile."

  "Here's something to dampen your enthusiasm." Louise thrust a lettertoward her. "Another kick on that octopus tattoo story you wrote. A Mrs.Brown says she heartily disapproves of such outlandish tales, and thatshe'll never buy another copy of the _Times_."

  "At least it proves my story attracted attention," chuckled Penny."Anything else while I was gone?"

  "Yes, Mrs. Weems telephoned to ask that you come to the cottage as soonas possible. And that reminds me--the telephone bill. The companyrequires a month's advance--"

  "Never mind the bills," interrupted Penny. "Did Mrs. Weems say anythingabout Anchor Joe?"

  "He appears to be much better."

  "I'm glad of that. I suppose I should drive out to the cottage before itgets dark."

  "Run along. I'll look after everything here."

  Penny swept her desk clear of papers and locked the drawers. "If you haveany spare time you might see what you can do with my algebra assignment,"she suggested. "I missed every problem but one yesterday."

  "I have my own lesson troubles," responded Louise. "I'm wading up to myneck in Latin, and the next monthly quiz is certain to drown me."

  "Teachers have no consideration," sighed Penny. "None at all."

  Gathering up her school books, she bade Louise good-bye and left theoffice. On the stairway she met Old Horney.

  "I've made my list," he said, offering it to her. "I figure we can't getout the paper with less than this."

  Penny glanced at the paper and slipped it into her purse.

  "I'll get the things somehow," she promised. "By the way, there's a rollof paper on the loading dock."

  "I've already hauled 'er in," replied Old Horney. "Any other jobs forme?"

  "No, you seem to be one jump ahead," laughed Penny.

  They descended the stairway together, the steps creaking beneath theirweight. There was a different look to Old Horney, Penny thought, stealinga glance at him. His hair had been cut and his face was clean-shaven.Work had given him a new outlook, a desire to recover his self respect.

  "I suppose you knew Matthew Judson rather well?" she remarkedreflectively.

  "Oh, sure."

  "What was he like, Horney?"

  "Well--" the old man hesitated, at a loss for words. "Judson was queer,sort of cold and unfriendly except to those who knew him best, but he wasa square-shooter."

  "The employes liked him?"

  "Everyone did except a few chronic sore-heads."

  "Horney, was it true that the _Press_ was making money at the time itclosed?"

  "That's what everyone on the paper thought. It was a shock to us all whenJudson closed down. I'll never forget the day he told us he was giving upthe plant. The old man looked like death had struck him, and he criedwhen he said good-bye to the boys."

  "I wonder why he closed the plant?"

  "Some say it was because he had lost a pile of money speculating on thestock market. But I never believed that. Judson wasn't the gamblingtype."

  "Why do you think he gave up the paper, Horney?"

  "I've done a lot of speculating on it," the old man admitted. "This isjust my own idea, but I figure Judson may have been blackmailed."

  "Blackmailed! By whom?"

  "I can't tell you--it's only my guess."

  "You have no evidence to support such a theory, Horney?"

  "Nothing you could call that. But the day before Judson quit he was inthe pressroom. He was sort of thinking out loud, I guess. Anyhow he saidto me, 'Horney, the dirty blackmailer couldn't do this to me if itweren't for my daughter. If it didn't mean smearing her name, I'dfight!'"

  "Did you ask him what he meant?"

  "I made some reply, and then he closed up like a clam. I figure he hadn'trealized what he was saying."

  "You haven't any idea as to whom he meant?"

  "I couldn't make a guess."

  "No matter wha
t the reason, it was a pity the _Press_ had to close,"declared Penny. "I feel very sorry for Mr. Judson."

  Bidding Horney good-bye, she hurried home for her automobile. However, asshe drove toward the river cottage she kept thinking about what the oldpressman had told her.

  "It's barely possible his theory is right," she mused. "But why shouldMr. Judson submit to blackmail even for his daughter's sake? Somehow thepieces of the puzzle refuse to fit."