CHAPTER 25 SCOOP!
Penny knew that she had only one chance of getting her story through to Riverview, and that was by means of long distance telephone. At best, instead of achieving a scoop as she had hoped, she would have only an even break with her rival. And if connections could not be quickly made, she would lose out altogether.
Hastily saying goodbye to Peter Jasko, Penny raced for the stairway. She did not have a word of her story written down. While she could give the facts to a rewrite man it would take him some time to get the article into shape.
“Vic Henderson writes such colorless stories, too,” she moaned to herself. “He’ll be afraid some fact isn’t accurate and he’ll jerk it out. This is the one yarn I want to write myself!”
Penny ran full tilt into Sheriff Clausson. She brought up shortly, observing that he had a prisoner in custody.
“Miss Parker, we caught this fellow down in the tunnel,” he said. “Can you identify him?”
“I’m not sure of his name. He works for Fergus and Maxwell as a teletype attendant. He may be George Jewitt.”
Penny started to hasten on, and then struck by a sudden idea, paused. Addressing the prisoner she demanded:
“Isn’t it true that there is a direct wire connection between this hotel and the one in Riverview?”
The man did not speak.
“You may as well answer up,” said the sheriff. “It’s something which can be checked easily.”
“Yes, there is a direct connection,” answered the attendant.
“And if I know anything about leased wires,” continued Penny with mounting excitement, “it would be possible to have the telephone company switch that wire right over to the Riverview Star office. Then I’d have a direct connection from here to the newspaper. Right?”
“Right except for one minor detail,” the man retorted sarcastically. “The telephone company won’t make a switch just to oblige a little girl.”
Penny’s face fell. “I suppose they wouldn’t do it,” she admitted. “But what a whale of an idea! I could send my story directly to the newspaper, and get my scoop after all. As it is, the Record is almost certain to beat me.”
“Listen!” said the sheriff. “Maybe the telephone company couldn’t make the switch on your say-so, but they’ll pay attention to an order from me. You get busy writing that story, young lady, and we’ll see what can be done.”
Sheriff Clausson turned his prisoner over to a deputy, and returned to find Penny busily scribbling on the back of an envelope, the only writing paper available. Together they went to the long distance telephone, and in a quicker time than the girl had dared hope, arrangements were made for the wire shift to be made.
“Now get up to Room 27 and start your story going out,” the sheriff urged. “Will you need the attendant to turn on the current for you?”
“No, I know how it’s done!” Penny declared. “You’re sure the connection has been made?”
“The telephone company reports everything is set. So go to it!”
Penny hobbled as fast as her injured ankle would permit to Room 27. She switched on the light, and turned on the current which controlled the teletype machines. Sitting down at a chair in front of the direct keyboard, she found herself trembling from excitement. She had practiced only a few times and was afraid she might make mistakes. Every word she wrote would be transmitted in exactly that form to a similar machine stationed in the Star office.
She could picture her father standing there, waiting, wondering what she would send. He had been warned that a big story was coming.
Penny consulted her envelope notes and began to tap the keys. Now and then she had moments of misgiving, wondering if her work was accurate, and if it were going through. She finished at last, and sat back with a weary sigh of relief. Her story was a good one. She knew that. But had it ever reached the Star office?
A machine to her right began its rhythmical thumping. Startled, Penny sprang to her feet and rushed over to see the message which was slowly printing itself across the copy paper.
“STORY RECEIVED OK. WONDERFUL STUFF. CAN YOU GET AN INTERVIEW WITH SHERIFF CLAUSSON?”
Penny laughed aloud, and went back to her own machine to tap out an answer. Her line had a flippant note:
“I’LL HAUL HIM UP HERE AS SOON AS THE 11:30 TRAIN COMES IN. LET ME TALK TO DAD.”
There was a little wait and then the return message came in over the other teletype.
“YOU’VE BEEN TALKING WITH HIM. AM SENDING SALT SOMMERS BY PLANE TO GET PICTURES. SORRY I DIDN’T TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU WROTE MAXWELL WAS INVOLVED IN ILLEGAL BUSINESS AT PINE TOP. THIS OUGHT TO MOP UP HIS SUIT AGAINST THE PAPER. GREAT STUFF, PENNY! WHO UNCOVERED THE STORY?”
Chuckling to herself, Penny went back to her keyboard and tapped:
“DON’T ASK ME. I’M TRYING TO BE MODEST.”
She waited eagerly for the response and it came in a moment.
“I WAS AFRAID OF IT. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”
Thoroughly enjoying the little game of questions and answers, Penny once more tapped her message.
“FINE AS SILK. WHEN ARE YOU COMING TO PINE TOP? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE ME FOR XMAS? IT SHOULD BE SOMETHING GOOD AFTER THIS.”
Soon Mr. Parker’s reply appeared on the moving sheet of paper.
“SOON. PERHAPS SOMETHING WITH FOUR WHEELS AND A HORN.”
Penny scarcely could control herself long enough to send back:
“OH, YOU WONDERFUL DAD! I COULD HUG YOU! PLEASE MAKE IT MAROON WITH MOHAIR UPHOLSTERY. AND HANG A WREATH ON LEAPING LENA.”
Sinking back in her chair, Penny gazed dreamily at the ceiling. A new car! It was almost too good to believe. She knew that her father must have been swayed by excitement or else very grateful to offer such a magnificent Christmas present as that. What a night of thrills it had been! Within a few hours Pine Top would be crowded with reporters and photographers, but she had uncovered the story, and had saved her father from a disastrous lawsuit.
As Penny waited, her thoughts far away, one more message came through on the teletype. She tore it from the roller of the machine, and smiled as she read her father’s final words:
“PRESSES ROLLING. FIRST EDITION ON THE STREET AHEAD OF THE RECORD. THE STAR SCORES AGAIN. THIS IS ANTHONY PARKER SIGNING OFF FOR A CUP OF COFFEE.”
THE END
