Penny hung up the receiver and reported the conversation to Mrs. Weems. A clock on the mantel chimed one-thirty, reminding the housekeeper that lunch had not been prepared.
“No food for me,” pleaded Penny. “I don’t feel like eating.”
“I’ve rather lost my own appetite,” confessed the housekeeper. “However, it’s foolish of us to worry. Your father must be safe. No doubt he had an appointment.”
Penny’s face brightened. “Why, of course!” she exclaimed. “Don’t know why I’ve been so dumb! Dad may still be in conference with Prosecutor Gilmore! I’ll call there.”
Darting to the telephone, she waited patiently until she was connected with the State prosecutor’s office. The lawyer himself talked to her.
“Why, no, Mr. Parker hasn’t been here,” he replied to her eager inquiry. “I expected him at ten-thirty. Then he telephoned that he had been delayed and would see me at eleven-thirty. He failed to keep that appointment also.”
The information sent Penny’s hopes glimmering. She explained about the accident and listened to the Prosecutor’s expression of sympathy. Replacing the receiver, she turned once more to Mrs. Weems.
“I’m more worried than ever now,” she quavered. “Dad didn’t keep his appointment with Prosecutor Gilmore, and it was a vitally important one.”
“We’ll hear from him soon—”
“Perhaps we won’t.” Penny took a quick turn across the room.