Presently a long black limousine which Penny recognized drew up at the curb. The chauffeur opened the door. Mr. Kohl and his wife stepped to the pavement. Observing the girl, they paused to chat with her.
“I see you have the new fender installed on your car, Mr. Kohl,” Penny remarked with a grin. “May I ask how much I owe the garageman?”
“The sum was trifling,” responded the banker. “Twelve dollars and forty cents to be exact. I may as well take care of it myself.”
“No, I insist,” said Penny, wincing inwardly. “You see, I am one of the Star’s highly paid executives now. I write society in Miss Hilderman’s absence and Dad gives me a salary.”
“Oh, really,” remarked Mrs. Kohl with interest. “We are giving a dinner for eight tomorrow night. You might like to mention it.”
“Indeed, yes,” said Penny eagerly.
Obtaining complete details, she jotted notes on the back of an envelope. Mrs. Kohl, at Penny’s request, was able to recall several important parties which had been held that week, providing material for nearly a half-column of society.
After the Kohls had entered the theatre, Penny turned to glance at the black limousine which was pulling away from the curb. A short distance away stood a young man who likewise appeared to be watching the car. He wore a gray suit and a gray felt hat pulled unnaturally low over his eyes as if to shield his face.
As Penny watched, the young man jotted something down on a piece of paper. His gaze remained fixed upon the Kohl limousine which was moving slowly down the street toward a parking lot.
“Why, that’s odd!” thought Penny. “I do believe he noted down the car license number! And perhaps for no good purpose.”