“Do the best you can,” DeWitt said encouragingly. “Work fast, but be careful of names.”
The telephone bell rang. As Penny reached for the receiver, DeWitt retreated to his own domain.
“Hello, Miss Hilderman?” a feminine voice cooed, “I wish to report a meeting, please.”
“Miss Hilderman isn’t here this afternoon,” replied Penny politely. “I will take the item.”
Gathering up paper and pencil, she slid into the revolving chair behind the telephone, poised for action.
“Yes,” she urged, “I am ready.”
There was a lengthy pause, and then the woman at the other end of the line recited as if she were reading from a paper:
“‘A meeting of the Mystical Society of Celestial Thought, Order of Amar, 67, will be held Tuesday night at eight o’clock in the Temple, 426 Butternut Lane. The public is cordially invited.’”
“What sort of society is the Order of Amar?” Penny inquired curiously, taking notes. “I never heard of it before.”
“Why, my dear, the society is very well known,” the woman replied. “We hold our meetings regularly, communing with the spirits. I do hope that the item appears in print. So often Miss Hilderman has been careless about it.”