Mr. Parker dipped his pen in ink, wrote a few lines, and then looked up again. “No, Major Bryan was sent here to trace a man who has several charges against him. At one time he impersonated an officer and in recent months has been swindling persons by various schemes. He pretends to sell Army or Navy surplus war goods.”
“That doesn’t sound like Professor Bettenridge, Dad.”
“Perhaps not, but from your description it could be the same man. This secret ray machine business sounds phoney to me. Most crooks try more than one game—the mine exploding trick may be his latest scheme to fleece gullible victims.”
“Do you think we should report the professor to the police, Dad?”
“It might be a better idea to send Major Bryan to see him,” Mr. Parker returned thoughtfully. “If the professor should prove to be the man he’s after, then the Army would take over.”
“Where is Major Bryan now, Dad?”
“He didn’t mention the name of his hotel, because at the time he called at my office, I had no thought I could assist him in any way. However, he expected to stay in Riverview several days. It shouldn’t be so hard to trace him. I’ll get busy tomorrow.”
Tired from her adventures of the night, Penny soon went to bed. The next day Mr. DeWitt gave her several interesting assignments, and when one of the stories appeared in the final edition of the Star, it bore a neat little “By Penny Parker,” under the headline.
“Getting on in the world, I see,” Elda Hunt observed sarcastically.
Not even the unkind remark could dull Penny’s pleasure. She had earned her way on the newspaper by hard, routine work. The by-line meant that she had turned in an excellent well-written story. Elda, whose writing lacked crispness and originality, only once had seen her own name appear in the Star. Penny felt a trifle sorry for her.