“To the newspaper office. If word comes, I want to be there to get it the very first minute.”
Mrs. Weems started to protest, then changed her mind. She merely said: “Telephone me the moment you have any news.”
A brisk walk to the Star office did much to restore Penny’s sagging courage. As she entered the newsroom, brushing snow from her coat, she saw a group of reporters gathered about Mr. DeWitt’s desk.
“News of Dad!” she thought, her pulse pounding.
Glimpsing Penny, the men at the desk began to scatter. They gazed at her in such a kind, sympathetic manner that she became frightened again.
“What is it, Mr. DeWitt?” she asked the editor. “Has Dad been found?”
He shook his head.
“But you must have had some news,” she insisted, her gaze on a folded paper which he held. “Please don’t hide anything from me.”
“Very well,” DeWitt responded quietly. “We found this letter in your father’s waste-basket.”
Penny took the paper. Silently she read the message which had been typed in capital letters.