“You see what I’m up against,” the editor growled. “I’d give a hundred dollars to be rid of that pest.”
“You really mean it?” Penny demanded with interest.
“My peace of mind would be well worth the price.”
“In that case, I may apply my own brain to the task. I could use a hundred dollars.”
The discussion was interrupted by Mrs. Weems who called that dinner was ready. As Mr. Parker went to his usual place at the dining room table, he saw a yellow envelope lying on his plate.
“What’s this?” he demanded sharply.
“A telegram,” explained Mrs. Weems. “It came only a moment ago. I paid the boy.”
“How much was the message?” the editor asked, his face grim.
“A dollar and a half.” Mrs. Weems regarded her employer anxiously. “Did I do anything I shouldn’t have? I supposed of course you would want me to accept the message.”
“This is just too, too good!” Penny chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the situation. “Everything so perfectly timed, almost as if it were a play!”