CHAPTER 8 PARENTAL PROTEST

In a few minutes the office boy returned, followed by a distinguished, middle-aged man who carried a cane. Penny gave him an astonished glance for she had expected to see Grant Atherwald. It had not occurred to her that there might be two persons with the same surname.

“Mr. Atherwald?” inquired her father, waving the visitor into a chair.

“James Atherwald.”

The man spoke shortly and did not sit down. Instead he spread out a copy of the night edition of the Star and pointed to the story which Penny had covered. She quaked inwardly, wondering what error of hers was to be exposed.

“Do you see this?” Mr. Atherwald demanded.

“What about it?” inquired the editor pleasantly.

“You are holding my family up to ridicule by printing such a story! Grant Atherwald is my son!”

“Is the story incorrect?”

“Yes, you imply that my son deliberately jilted Sylvia Kippenberg!”

“And actually he didn’t?” Mr. Parker inquired evenly.

“Certainly not. My son is a man of honor and had a very deep regard for Sylvia. Under no circumstance would he have jilted her.”

“Still, the wedding did not take place.”

“That is true,” Mr. Atherwald admitted.

“Perhaps you can explain why it was postponed?”

“I don’t know what happened to Grant,” Mr. Atherwald said reluctantly. “He left our home in ample time for the ceremony, and I might add, was in excellent spirits. I believe he must have been the victim of a stupid, practical joke.”

“Well, that suggests a new angle,” Mr. Parker remarked thoughtfully. “Did your son have friends who might be apt to play such a joke on him?”

“No one of my acquaintance,” Mr. Atherwald answered unwillingly. “Of course, he had many young friends who were not in my circle.”

Penny had listened quietly to the conversation. She now arose and came over to the desk. From her pocket she took the white gold wedding ring.

“Mr. Atherwald,” she said, “I wonder if you could identify this.”

The man studied the trinket for a moment.

“It looks very much like a ring which Grant purchased for Sylvia,” he declared. “Where did you get it?”

“I found it lying on the ground at the Kippenberg estate,” Penny replied vaguely. She had no intention of divulging the exact locality where she had picked up the ring.

“You see,” said Mr. Parker, “we have supporting facts in our possession which were not published. All in all, I think the story was handled discreetly, with due regard for the feelings of those involved.”

“Then you refuse to retract the story?”

“I should like to oblige you, Mr. Atherwald, but you realize such a story as this is of great interest to our readers.”

“You care only for sensationalism!”

“On the contrary, we try to avoid it,” Mr. Parker corrected. “In this particular case, we deliberately played the story down. If it develops that your son actually has disappeared—”

“I tell you it was only a practical joke,” Mr. Atherwald interrupted. “No doubt my son is at home by this time. The wedding has merely been postponed.”

“You are entitled to your opinion,” said Mr. Parker. “And I sincerely hope that you are right.”

“At least do not use that picture which your photographer took of Mrs. Kippenberg. I’ll pay you for it.”

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head.

“I might have expected such an attitude!” Mr. Atherwald exclaimed angrily. “Good afternoon.”

He left the office, slamming the door behind him.

“Well, you’ve lost another subscriber, Dad,” said Penny flippantly.

“He’s not the first,” returned her father.

“I intended to give Mr. Atherwald the wedding ring, but he went off in too big a hurry. Should I go after him?”

“No, don’t bother, Penny. You might take it around to the picture room and have it photographed. We may use it as Exhibit A if the story develops into anything.”

“How about the alligator?” Penny asked. “Would you like to have me bring that to the office, too?”

“Move out of here and let me work,” her father retorted.

Penny went to the photographic department and made her requirements known.

“I’ll wait for the ring,” she announced. “You don’t catch me trusting you boys with any jewelry.”

While the picture was being taken Salt came by with several damp prints in his hand.

“Take a look at this one, Penny,” he said proudly. “Mrs. Kippenberg wielding a wicked plate. Will she burn up when she sees it on the picture page?”

“She will, indeed,” agreed Penny. “Nice going.”

When the ring had been returned to her she slipped it into her pocket and left the newspaper office. Her next stop was at a corner hamburger shop where she fortified herself with two large sandwiches.

“That ought to hold me until the dinner bell rings,” she thought. “And now to pay my honest debts.”

A trolley ride and a short walk brought Penny to the home of her chum, Louise Sidell. As she came within sight of the front porch she saw her friend sitting on the steps, reading a movie magazine. Louise threw it aside and sprang to her feet.

“Oh, Penny, I’m glad you came over. I telephoned your house and Mrs. Weems said you had gone away somewhere.”

“Official business for Dad,” Penny laughed. She dropped two dollars into Louise’s hand. “Here’s what I owe you. But don’t go spend it because I may need to borrow it back in a couple of days.”

“Is Leaping Lena running up huge garage bills again?” Louise inquired sympathetically.

Penny’s second-hand car was a joke to everyone save herself. She was a familiar figure at nearly every garage in Riverview, for the vehicle had a disconcerting way of breaking down.

“I had to buy new spark plugs this time,” sighed Penny. “But then, I should get along better from now on. Dad raised my allowance.”

“Doesn’t that call for a celebration? Rini’s have a special on today. A double chocolate sundae with pineapple and nuts, cherry and—”

“Oh, no, you don’t! I’m saving my dollar for the essentials of life. I may need it for gasoline if I decide to drive over to Corbin again.”

“Again?” Louise asked alertly.

“I was over there today, covering the Kippenberg wedding,” Penny explained. “Only it turned out there was no ceremony. Grant Atherwald jilted his bride, or was spirited away by persons unknown. He was last seen near a lily pool in an isolated part of the estate. I picked up a wedding ring lying on the ground close by. And then as a climax Mrs. Kippenberg hurled a plate at Salt.”

“Penny Parker, what are you saying?” Louise demanded. “It sounds like one of those two-reel thrillers they show over at the Rialto.”

“Here is the evidence,” Penny said, showing her the white gold ring.

“It’s amazing how you get into so much adventure,” Louise replied enviously as she studied the trinket. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

The invitation was very much to Penny’s liking. Perching herself on the highest porch step she recounted her visit to the Kippenberg estate, painting an especially romantic picture of the castle dwelling, the moat, and the drawbridge.

“Oh, I’d love to visit the place,” Louise declared. “You have all the luck.”

“I’ll take you with me if I ever get to go again,” promised Penny. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with this careless farewell, she sprang to her feet, and hastened on home.

The next morning while Mrs. Weems was preparing breakfast, Penny ran down to the corner to buy the first edition of the Star. As she spread it open a small headline accosted her eye.

“NO TRACE OF MISSING BRIDEGROOM.”

Penny read swiftly, learning that Grant Atherwald had not been seen since his strange disappearance from the Kippenberg estate. Members of the family refused to discuss the affair and had made no report to the police.

“This story is developing into something big after all,” she thought with quickening pulse. “Now if Dad will only let me work on it!”

At home she gave the newspaper to her father, remarking rather pointedly: “You see, your expert reporters haven’t learned very much more than I brought in yesterday. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to send me out there again today?”

“Oh, I doubt if you could get into the estate, Penny.”

“Salt and I managed yesterday.”

“You did very well, but you weren’t known then. It will be a different matter today since we antagonized the family by using the story. I’ll suggest that Jerry Livingston be assigned to it.”

“With Penny as first assistant?”

Mr. Parker smiled and shook his head. “This isn’t your type of story. Now if you would like to cover a lecture at the Women’s Club—”

“Or a nice peppy meeting of the Ladies Sewing Circle,” Penny finished ironically. “Thank you, no.”

“I am sure you wouldn’t have a chance of getting into the estate,” her father said lamely. “We must have good coverage.”

“What does Jerry have that I haven’t got?” Penny demanded in an aggrieved voice.

“Eight years of experience for one thing.”

“But I really should go out there,” Penny insisted. “I ought to show Miss Kippenberg the ring I found.”

“The ring might provide an entry,” Mr. Parker admitted thoughtfully. “I’ll tell you, why don’t you telephone long distance?”

“And if I’m able to make an appointment, may I help Jerry cover the story?”

“All right,” agreed Mr. Parker. “If Sylvia Kippenberg talks with you we’ll be able to use anything she says.”

“I’m the same as on my way to the estate now, Dad.”

With a triumphant laugh, Penny left the breakfast table and hastened to the telephone.

“Long distance,” she said into the transmitter. “The Kippenberg estate at Corbin, please.”

She hovered anxiously near the telephone while she waited for the connection to be made. Ten minutes elapsed before the bell jingled several times. Eagerly, she jerked down the receiver. She could hear a faint, far-away voice saying, “hello.”

“May I speak with Sylvia Kippenberg?” Penny requested.

“Who is this, please?”

“Miss Parker at Riverview.”

“Miss Kippenberg is not at home,” came the stiff response.

“Then let me speak with Mrs. Kippenberg,” Penny said quickly. “I have something very important to tell her. Yesterday when I was at the estate I found a ring—”

The receiver had clicked at the other end of the line. The connection was broken.