Penny was so tense with expectation that she was unable to do justice to the delicious dinner which Mrs. Weems had prepared. Her father, too, seemed unusually restless. After dinner he made a pretense of reading the paper, but actually his eyes did not see the print.
The hands of the clock scarcely appeared to move, so slowly did time pass. Eight o’clock came, then nine. Suddenly the telephone rang.
Penny was away in an instant to answer it. From the next room she called to her father:
“It’s for you, Dad! DeWitt, I think.”
“I told him to telephone me as soon as the raid was staged.” Mr. Parker arose and went quickly to take the receiver. Penny hovered at his elbow.
“Hello! DeWitt?” the publisher asked, and after a slight pause: “Oh, I see. No, I don’t think Penny was mistaken. It’s more likely there was a tip-off.”
He hung up the receiver and turned toward Penny who anticipated the news.
“The raid was a failure?”
“Yes, Penny. Detectives spent two hours at the meeting. Nothing happened. It was impossible to make arrests.”
“They must have been recognized as detectives.”