“Perhaps you have come to the wrong hotel,” said the clerk aloofly. “We do not cater to gardeners.”
“Only to people who employ gardeners, I take it.”
“Our rates start at ten dollars a day,” returned the clerk coldly.
“And does that include free linen and a bath?” Penny asked with pretended awe.
“Certainly. All of our rooms have private baths.”
“How wonderful,” giggled Penny. “We thought this might be one of those places with a bath on every floor!”
Suddenly comprehending that he was being made an object of sport, the clerk glared at the girls and turned his back.
Penny and Louise went cheerfully to their car, very much pleased with themselves for having deflated such a conceited young man. They drove away, and late afternoon brought them to Riverview, tired and dusty from their long trip.
After dropping her chum off at the Sidell home, Penny rode directly to the newspaper office. Finding no parking place available on the street, she ran her car into the loading area at the rear of the building, nosing into a narrow space which had just been vacated by a paper-laden truck.
“Hey, you lady,” shouted an employee. “You can’t park that scrap iron here. Another paper truck will be along in a minute.”