The Secret Pact

  CHAPTER 4 _A PROSPECTIVE TENANT_

  Jerry rolled down the window beside him and, thrusting his head throughit, glanced back at the _Morning Press_ building.

  "Where do you see a light?" he demanded.

  "It was on the third floor," declared Penny. "I can't see it myself now."

  Jerry grinned as he settled back into his place between the two girls."You certainly get a kick out of playing jokes," he accused.

  "But it wasn't a joke, Jerry. Honestly, I saw a light. Didn't you,Louise?"

  "Sorry, but I didn't. I'm afraid your imagination works overtime, Pet."

  "I know what I saw," insisted Penny.

  As Jerry and Louise smiled, she lapsed into injured silence. However, shewas certain she had not been mistaken. Distinctly she had observed alight on the third floor, a moving light which had been extinguishedbefore her companions had noticed it.

  The car presently drew up at the curb in front of the _Star_ building.Anthony Parker, a newspaper tucked beneath his arm, stepped from thevestibule where he had been waiting. He was a tall, slender man, alertand courageous in following his convictions. Under his management the_Riverview Star_ had grown to be one of the most influential papers inthe state.

  "Hope we haven't kept you waiting, Mr. Parker," Jerry greeted him,swinging open the cab door.

  "Only a minute or two. Thanks, Jerry, for bringing the girls from theboat. May we offer you a ride home?"

  "No, thanks, Chief. I'll walk from here. Good evening."

  Jerry tipped his hat politely to Penny and Louise as the cab drove away.Mr. Parker asked the girls if they had enjoyed their trip aboard the_Goodtime_.

  "The boat wasn't very well named, I'm afraid," answered Penny. "The tripproved to be rather terrible but we met some interesting people."

  During the drive to the Sidell home, she and Louise talked as fast asthey could, telling Mr. Parker about Tillie Fellows, the mysterious youngwoman who had dropped a bundle of clothing into the water, andparticularly the man with the strange octopus tattoo.

  "You'll have to tell the rest of it, Penny," laughed Louise as she badeher chum good-bye. "Thanks for bringing me home."

  The cab rolled on, and Penny glanced questioningly at her father.

  "What do you think of the tattoo story?" she asked hopefully. "Won't itmake a dandy feature for the _Star_?"

  "I regret to say it sounds like first-grade fiction."

  "Why, Dad! Louise and Jerry will confirm everything I've said."

  "Oh, I don't doubt your word, Penny. I am sure everything occurred as youreport. Nevertheless, were we to use the story our readers might questionits veracity."

  "Don't crush me with such big words, Dad."

  "Veracity means truth, Penny. Now your story is very interesting, but Ithink you may have placed your own interpretation upon certain facts."

  "For instance?"

  "Well, according to John Munn's statement, he fell from the bridge andwas not pushed."

  "But I saw it with my own two eyes, Dad."

  "The night is foggy. You easily could have been mistaken. As for theoctopus tattoo, what is so strange about it? Sailors compete in strivingfor startling decorative effects."

  "Dad, you could rationalize the national debt," accused Penny. "Verywell, since you scorn my story I'll give it to the High School paper!"

  "An excellent idea. That is, if your editor favors highly coloredjournalism."

  Penny made a grimace, knowing that her father was deliberately teasingher. It was a constant source of irritation that a boy named Fred Clouskyhad been elected editor of the Riverview High School Chatter instead ofPenny by the margin of one vote. She disapproved of Fred, his pimples,and particularly the way he blue-penciled the occasional stories whichshe submitted.

  "The Riverview High Chatter is just as silly as its name," she announced."If I had that sheet I'd make it into a real paper."

  "Sour grapes?" inquired her father softly.

  "Maybe," grinned Penny. "But Fred is such an egg, even more conservativethan you."

  The cab drew up before the Parker home. A light still burned in theliving room where Mrs. Weems, the housekeeper, sat reading a magazine.

  "I am glad you have come, Penny," she remarked, switching on anotherlight. "I was beginning to worry."

  Since the death of Mrs. Parker many years before Mrs. Weems had takencomplete charge of the household, caring for Penny and loving her as herown daughter. There were occasions when she found the impulsive girldifficult to restrain, but certainly never dull or uninteresting.

  Mrs. Weems soon went to bed, leaving Penny and her father to explore therefrigerator. As they helped themselves to cold ham, potato salad, andcelery, Penny spoke of the light which she had seen in the abandoned_Morning Press_ building.

  "It may have been a watchman making his usual rounds," commented herfather.

  "Jerry tells me the building has no watchman."

  "Could it have been a reflection from a car headlight?"

  "I don't think so, Dad."

  "Well, I shouldn't lose sleep over it," remarked Mr. Parker lightly."Better run along to bed now."

  Penny arose at six-thirty the next morning, and before breakfast hadwritten a two-page story about John Munn for the Riverview High SchoolChatter. She read it twice and was very well pleased with her work.

  "Editor Fred is lucky to get this," she thought. "He should make it thelead story."

  Off to school at a quarter to nine, Penny deposited her literary treasurein a box provided for journalistic contributions. All that day she wentfrom class to class, warmed by the knowledge that she had accomplished anexcellent piece of writing. To Louise she confided that she thought thework might improve her grade in English Composition.

  "I'm glad you've decided to contribute to the paper again," declared herchum. "It's time you and Fred buried the hatchet."

  "Oh, I don't bear him any grudge," returned Penny. "Of course, everyoneknows he campaigned for the editorship with free candy and soda pop."

  At three-thirty, a minute before the closing bell rang, Fred Clouskysauntered down the aisle. With a flourish he dropped two pages of copy onPenny's desk, face upward. Across one of the pages in huge blue lettershad been written: "Too imaginative for _Chatter_. Language too flowery.Spelling bad. Try us again sometime."

  A red stain crept over Penny's cheeks. Her blue eyes began to snap.

  "The poisonous little mushroom!" she muttered. "If he thinks he can dothis to me--"

  The closing bell rang, and immediately a group of sympathetic friendsgathered about Penny. They all tried to soothe her feelings.

  "Don't let it bother you," Louise advised her chum. "Of course, he did itjust to make you peeved."

  "'Spelling bad,'" Penny read aloud. "Look at this word he underlined!Anyone could tell I merely struck a wrong letter on my typewriter!"

  Crumpling the page, she tossed it into the waste paper basket.

  "'Too imaginative,'" she muttered. "'Language too flowery'!"

  "Oh, forget it, Penny," laughed Louise, leading her toward the lockerroom. "Fred always has been jealous of you because you've had storiespublished in the _Star_. Don't let him know that you're annoyed."

  "I guess I am acting silly," admitted Penny, relaxing. "What I must do isto give this problem a good, hard think. Editor Fred will hear from meyet!"

  Declining an invitation to play tennis, she went directly home. For anhour she lay on the davenport, staring at the ceiling.

  "Penny, are you ill?" inquired Mrs. Weems anxiously.

  "No, I'm in conference with myself," answered Penny. "I am trying toarrive at a momentous decision."

  Presently, she began to scribble figures on a sheet of paper. When herfather came home at five o'clock he found her engaged in that occupation.

  "Well, Penny," he remarked, hanging up his hat, "how did it go today? Theeditor of _Chatter_ accepted your contr
ibution I hope."

  Penny grinned ruefully. "If you don't mind, let's discuss a less painfulsubject," she replied. "Suppose you tell me what you know about MatthewJudson and the _Morning Press_."

  "Why this sudden display of interest?"

  "Oh, I saw Mr. Judson last night at the Bean Pot. He looked ratherdepressed."

  Mr. Parker sat down on the arm of the davenport. "It's too bad aboutJudson," he remarked. "I always admired him because he was a clevernewspaper man."

  "Clever? Didn't he mis-manage the paper so that it had to close?"

  "Not that anyone ever learned. No, I never could figure out why Judsonquit. The _Press_ had a large circulation and plenty of advertisers."

  "What became of the building?"

  "It's still there."

  "No, I mean who owns it," Penny explained. "Not Mr. Judson?"

  "The building was taken over a few months ago by a man named GeorgeVeeley. Come to think of it, I once brought him home with me. You shouldremember him, Penny."

  "I do. He was rather nice. I wonder what he plans to do with the _Press_building and its equipment."

  "Hold it for speculation, I assume. In my opinion he'll have it empty fora long while."

  "I rather doubt it," said Penny. "He has a prospective tenant now, onlyhe doesn't know it."

  "Indeed? Who?"

  "You're looking at her."

  "You!" Mr. Parker smiled broadly.

  "I have it all planned," announced Penny with quiet finality. "What thistown needs is a good, live newspaper, and an imaginative editor to runit."

  "Oh, I see." With difficulty Mr. Parker kept his face composed. "Andwhere do you propose to start your newspaper? In the old _Press_building?"

  "You took the words out of my mouth, Dad. Everything is there, awaitingthe touch of my magic wand."

  "There's a little matter of rent. Several thousand a month."

  "I have a solution for that problem."

  "Your staff?"

  "I'll gather it as I prosper."

  "The necessary capital?"

  "A mere detail," said Penny grandly. "I meet only one obstacle at a time.Tomorrow I shall accost Mr. Veeley with an attractive proposition. If hefalls into my net, Riverview's newest paper, _The Weekly Times_, makesits bow to the public."