Miss Betty was right when she said that the articles in the files were like stories. To-day, she found an engrossing one—all about a man who had disappeared right here in Plainfield. The man had been a bookkeeper, Mr. Richard Marat, and had discovered a deficiency in his books, and, fearing arrest, had fled—no one knew where. Reading ahead in the files, Joan learned that experts had examined the man’s books, had found no deficiency and had reported that the man had simply made a mistake. Joan couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, whoever he was, running away like that when he’d done nothing wrong. She knew how helpless one felt when a mistake happened that wasn’t expected like that. She read parts of it aloud to Tim.
“Hair slightly gray, blue eyes—um, that would fit a lot of people,” Tim said. “It’s not specific enough. That’s the most important thing to learn in the newspaper world—get details.” Joan finished her typing and Tim was pleased when she handed it to him.
Tim was in a good humor. He whistled as he reached for his hat. “Want to go along?” he asked. “The paper’s on the press and things are dull, so Nix’s sending Lefty out to the Boyville School to take pictures of the boys’ band in their new uniforms. And I’m to go along to see if I can’t get a feature out of it.”
She would adore it. “But—Amy’s waiting for me—” she faltered. She had on the flowered organdie of palest yellow. She and Amy had planned a call on a visiting girl. But a chance to go with Tim! They could do the other, any time.
“Take her along,” he invited. They found Amy waiting on the sidewalk engaged in conversation with Lefty, who was in his old car at the curb. Amy had on an organdie, too—hers was pale pink. “Hop in, kids,” he held open the sagging door. “Sure, you can both go along.”
Lefty was nice, and rather young. Not so young as Tim, of course, but still, young. Joan and Amy climbed in. It might be just taking a ride to Amy, going out ten miles or so in the country on this sunshiny afternoon, but to Joan it was covering an assignment. Now that she was a reporter, too! Amy began chattering away, saying that this was the first time she had ever sat behind Tim and noticed what good-looking ears he had. Tim reddened at this, but did not get peeved. Amy always flattered the boys and they seemed to like it. Lefty was occupied with the driving. Joan wished that Chub could have come along, too.
Soon they passed through a tiny village. Nothing much there but a brick school, a few houses and stores, and an ugly frame building that bore the words, “Black Stump Volunteer Firemen’s Hall.”
“Is Black Stump a village?” Amy asked.
“Sure is,” Lefty nodded. “You are now in its busy center.”
“It’s a queer name for a town,” Joan remarked.