CHAPTER 22 WANTED—A WIRE

Toward morning Penny awoke to find her limbs stiff and cramped. Murky, fetid water still flowed over the floor of the station. However, it had lowered during the night, leaving a rim of oozy mud to mark the office walls. The first ray of light streamed through the broken window.

Penny yawned and stretched her cramped feet. She felt wretched and dirty. Her clothing was stiff and caked with mud. She scraped off what she could and washed face and hands in a basin of water she found at the back end of the room.

When she returned, Joe Quigley was awake.

“My neck! My arm! My whole anatomy!” he complained, rubbing a hand over his stubbly beard. “I’m a cripple for life.”

“I feel the same way,” Penny grinned. “I’m hungry too. Anything to eat around here?”

“Not a crumb. The folks out in the waiting room broke into all the vending machines last night. There’s not so much as a piece of candy left.”

“And there’s no place in Delta where food can be bought.”

“Not that I know of. Only a few relief kitchens were set up last night. They can’t begin to take care of the mob.”

Penny peered out into the crowded waiting room. Mothers with babies in their arms had sat there all night. Some of the refugees were weeping; others accepted their lot with stoical calm. Seeing such misery, Penny forgot her own hunger and discomfort.

“Don’t you think help will come soon?” she asked Quigley.

“Hard to tell,” he replied. “It should.”

Penny went out into the waiting room but there was very little she could do to help the unfortunate sufferers. She gave one of the women her blanket.

“That was foolish of you,” Quigley told her a moment later. “You’ll likely need it yourself.”

“I’d rather go without,” Penny replied. “Anyway, I can’t bear to stay here any longer. I’m going to the telephone office.”

“Why there?”

“The building stands high and should be one of the first places to reopen,” Penny declared hopefully. “Maybe I can get a long distance call through to Dad.”

“Better leave some of your story with me,” advised Quigley. “If we get a wire before the telephone company does, I’ll try to send it for you.”

Penny scribbled a hundred word message, packing it solidly with facts. If ever it reached Riverview a Star rewrite man could enlarge it to at least a column.

Saying goodbye to Joe, Penny made her way toward all that remained of Delta’s business section. She had not seen Louise since the previous afternoon and was greatly worried about her.

“I know she’s safe,” she told herself. “But I must find her.”

Penny was not alone on the devastated streets. Refugees wandered aimlessly about, seeking loved ones or treasured possessions. Long lines of shivering people waited in front of a church that had been converted into a soup kitchen.

Penny joined the line. Just as a woman handed her a steaming cup of hot broth, she heard her name spoken. Turning quickly, she saw Louise running toward her from across the street.

“Penny! Penny!” her chum cried joyfully.

“Careful,” Penny cautioned, balancing the cup of soup. “This broth is as precious as gold.”

“Oh, you poor thing!” cried Louise, hugging her convulsively. “You look dreadful.”

“That’s because I’m so hungry,” Penny laughed. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Oh, yes, I stayed at that farmhouse on the hill last night. I actually had a bed to sleep in and a good hot breakfast this morning. But I’ve been dreadfully worried about you.”

“And that goes double,” answered Penny. “Wait until I gobble this soup, and we’ll compare notes.”

She drank the broth greedily and the girls walked away from the church. Penny then told of her experiences since leaving her chum on the hillside. Louise was much relieved to learn that word had been sent to Riverview of their safety.

“But what of Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters?” she asked anxiously. “Have you heard what happened to them?”

Penny shook her head. “Joe Quigley thinks they didn’t have a chance.”

“I can’t comprehend it somehow,” Louise said with a shudder. “It just doesn’t seem possible. Why, we were guests in Mrs. Lear’s home less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“I know,” agreed Penny soberly. “I keep hoping that somehow they escaped.”

“If only we could learn the truth.”

“There’s not a chance to get through now,” Penny said slowly. “The water’s gone down a little, but not enough.”

“If we had a boat—”

“The current is still so swift we couldn’t handle it.”

“I suppose not,” Louise admitted hopelessly. “When do you suppose the Relief folks will get here?”

“They should be moving in at any time. And when they come they’ll probably be trailed by a flock of reporters and photographers.”

“This flood will be a big story,” Louise acknowledged.

“Big? It’s one of the greatest news stories of the year! And here I am, helpless to send out a single word of copy.”

“You mean that folks outside of the valley don’t know about the flood?” Louise gasped.

“The news went out, but only as a flash. Before we could give any details, our only wire connection was lost.”

“Then the first reporter to get his news out of the valley will have a big story?”

“That’s the size of it,” Penny nodded. “The worst of it is that Dad’s depending upon me.”

“But he can’t expect you to do the impossible. If there are no wire connections it’s not your fault. Anyhow, as soon as one is set up you’ll be able to send your story.”

“Other reporters will be here by that time. Experienced men. Maybe they’ll get the jump on me.”

“I’ll venture they won’t!” Louise said with emphasis. “You’ve never failed yet on a story.”

“This is more than a story, Lou. It’s a great human tragedy. Somehow I don’t feel a bit like a reporter—I just feel bewildered and rather stunned.”

“You’re tired and half sick,” Louise said. She linked arms with Penny and guided her away from the long line of refugees.

“Where to?” she asked after they had wandered for some distance.

“I was starting for the telephone company office when I met you.”

“Why the telephone office?” Louise asked.

“Well, it’s high and dry. I thought that by some chance they might have a wire connection.”

“Then let’s go there by all means,” urged Louise.

Farther down the debris-clogged street the girls came to the telephone company offices. The building, one of the newest and tallest in Delta, had been gutted by the flood. However, the upper floors remained dry and emergency quarters had been established there. Nearly all employees were at their posts.

Penny and Louise pushed their way through the throng of refugees that had taken possession of the lower floor. Climbing the stairs to the telephone offices they asked to see the manager.

“Mr. Nordwall isn’t seeing anyone,” they were informed. “He’s very busy.”

Penny persisted. She explained that her business was urgent and concerned getting a news story through to Riverview. After a long delay she was allowed to talk to the manager, a harassed, over-worked man named Nordwall.

“Please state your case briefly,” he said wearily.

Penny explained again that she wished to get a story of the flood through to her father’s paper, and asked what hope there was.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” the man replied. “We haven’t a single toll line at present.”

“How soon do you expect to get one?”

The manager hesitated, unwilling to commit himself. “By noon we may have one wire west,” he said reluctantly.

Penny asked if she could have first chance at it. Nordwall regretfully shook his head.

“Relief work must come before news.”

“Then there’s no way to get my story out?”

“I suggest that you place your call in the usual way,” Mr. Nordwall instructed. “I’ll tell our Long Distance Chief Operator to put it ahead of everything except relief work messages.”

Penny obeyed the manager’s suggestion. However, she and Louise both knew that there was slight chance the call would go through in time to do any good.

“No use waiting around here,” Penny said gloomily. “The wire won’t even be set up before noon.”

Leaving the telephone building, the girls sloshed back toward the railroad. Suddenly Louise drew Penny’s attention to an airplane flying low overhead. It flew so close to the ground that they could read “United Press,” on the wings.

“Well, it looks as if the news boys are moving in,” Penny observed. “Probably taking photographs of the flood.”

The airplane circled Delta and then vanished eastward. Walking on, the girls met an armed soldier who passed them without a glance.

“The National Guard,” Penny commented. “That means a road is open.”

“And it means that help is here at last!” Louise cried. “Property will be protected now and some order will be established!”

Penny remained silent.

“Aren’t you glad?” Louise demanded, staring at her companion.

“Yes, I’m glad,” Penny said slowly. “I truly am. But the opening of the road means that within a very little while every news service in the country will have men here.”

“And you’ve lost your chance to send an exclusive story to the Star.”

“I’ve let Dad down,” Penny admitted. “He depended upon me and I failed him dismally.”