As she reached the building, newsboys were on the streets crying the first edition, just off the press.
Upstairs, in the newsroom, reporters were relaxing at their desks, taking a few minutes’ “breather” between editions.
Swinging through the entrance gate, Penny created a slight stir. At one of the desks under a neon light, Jerry Livingston, pencil behind one ear and hair slightly rumpled, tapped aimlessly at the keys of a typewriter. His quick eye appreciatively took in the long flowing skirt and the high heeled slippers.
“Well, if it isn’t our little glamor girl!” he teased. “Cinderella ready for the ball!”
At another time, Penny would have paused to chat. Now she flashed a quick smile and clicked on toward the city desk.
Editor DeWitt, a quick-tempered, paunchy man of middle-age stood talking to her father, who looked more than ever distinguished in a new gray suit.
“Here she comes now,” Mr. DeWitt said as Penny approached. “Your daughter never missed a deadline yet, Mr. Parker.”
“Perhaps not,” the publisher admitted, “but it always gives me heart failure, figuring she will.”
“Dad, I’m sorry to have annoyed you,” Penny said quickly before he could get in another word. “I was out at the swamp with Louise.”
“The swamp!”