It was nearly midnight by the time Penny reached home. Mrs. Weems had gone to bed, but a light still burned in the study where Mr. Parker was working on a speech he expected to deliver the following day before the Chamber of Commerce.
“Well, I’m glad you finally decided to come home,” he remarked severely. “Since my little daughter became Tillie the Toiler, she seems to have developed independent hours.”
“Wait until you hear where I’ve been,” Penny said, sinking into an easy chair beside his desk. “Dad, you won’t blame me for staying out late when I tell you what I saw and heard.”
Eagerly she related all that had occurred, and was pleased to note that the story interested her father.
“Tell me more about Professor Bettenridge,” he urged. “Describe him.”
“He looks very scholarly, but his language doesn’t fit the part,” Penny recalled. “He’s tall and thin and his nose is very pointed. Middle aged, which might mean forty-five or maybe fifty. That’s about all I noticed except that he has a quick way of darting his eyes about. And he wears glasses.”
“From your description, he sounds like the same person I heard about this afternoon,” Mr. Parker commented.
“Someone told you of his experiments at the lake?”
“Quite the contrary. An Army officer, Major Alfred Bryan called at my office this afternoon, seeking information about a man who may be Professor Bettenridge.”
“Was he interested in buying the machine for the Army, Dad?”