From outside the lighted cafe, the girls could see the truck driver slouched at one of the counter stools.
“I’m willing to go inside,” said Louise, “but why start a fuss? After all, I suppose he had a right to refuse us a ride.”
“We might have frozen to death!”
“Well, he probably didn’t realize we were lost.”
“I wish I had your charitable disposition,” Penny said with a sniff. “He heard me shout, and he drove away just to be mean.”
“Anyway, let’s forget it.”
Louise took Penny’s elbow, steering her toward the cafe. The girls had been friends since grade school days. They made an excellent pair, for Louise exerted a subduing effect upon her impulsive chum.
The only daughter of Anthony Parker, publisher of the Star, Penny had a talent for innocently getting into trouble. Inactivity bored her. When nothing more exciting offered, she frequently tried her hand at writing stories for her father’s newspaper. Such truly important yarns as The Vanishing Houseboat, The Wishing Well, Behind the Green Door, and The Clock Strikes Thirteen had rolled from her typewriter. Penny thoroughly enjoyed reportorial work, but best of all she loved to take an active part in the adventures she recounted.
“Now remember,” Louise warned her, “not a word to that truck driver. We’ll just snub him.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll try to behave myself.”