“But how can we get a camera?” her chum asked hopelessly. “Delta’s stores are under water—most of them at least.”
Though the situation seemed impossible, the girls tramped from one debris-clogged street to another. After an hour’s search they came upon a man who was snapping pictures with a box camera. Questioned by Penny, he agreed to part with it for twenty dollars.
“I haven’t that many cents,” Penny admitted. “But my father is owner of the Riverview Star. I’ll guarantee that you’ll receive your money later.”
“How do I know I’ll ever see you again?”
“You don’t,” said Penny. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“You look honest,” the man agreed after a pause. “I’ll take a chance.”
He gave Penny the camera, together with three rolls of film. The girls carefully wrote down his name and address.
“Now to get our pictures,” Penny said, as she and Louise started on once more. “We’ll take a few of the streets. Then I want to get some human-interest shots.”
“How about the railroad station?” Louise suggested. “A great many of the refugees are being cared for there.”
Penny nodded assent. Hastening toward the depot, they paused several times to snap pictures they thought were especially suitable for newspaper reproduction.