“Will I?” Penny repeated. “I’ll be right there with bells! I intend to expose Mr. Al Gepper if it’s the last act of my life!”
Returning home later in the afternoon, she found Mrs. Weems sitting on the living room floor, sorting a drawer of old photographs.
“You’re not packing your things already?” Penny asked in alarm.
“Only these photographs,” the housekeeper responded. “I wouldn’t have started the task, only I got into it when the agent came.”
“Agent?”
“A man from the Clamont Photograph Studio.”
“Never heard of the place.”
“It’s opening this week. They’re having a special offer—three old photographs enlarged for only twenty-five cents. I gave the man Cousin David’s picture and two others.”
“That is a bargain,” remarked Penny. “I wish I had been here.”
The evening meal was served, and afterwards Mrs. Weems devoted herself to the reading of travel books borrowed from the library. Penny could find no occupation to satisfy her. She turned the radio on, switched it off again, and wandered restlessly from room to room. Finally she went to the telephone and called Louise.