“No, the missing child is a little girl who was not permitted to attend the party because of a severe cold. You may remember her—Adelle.”
“Indeed I do, Miss Anderson. Tell me how I may help.”
“We’ve already organized searching parties,” the young woman returned. “Adelle surely will be found within a few hours. However, if the story gets out it will do the institution no good—particularly at this time when our drive for funds is on.”
“I see,” Penny murmured, “you would like the news kept out of the Star?”
“Can it be arranged?” Miss Anderson asked eagerly. “If you will talk to your father about it we’ll be very grateful.”
“I’ll ask him not to print the story,” Penny promised, none too pleased by the request. “I do hope Adelle is found soon.”
She could not help feeling that the institution officials seemed far more worried about the prospect of unfavorable publicity than over the missing child’s welfare. Saying goodbye to Miss Anderson, she sought her father who was reading in the library.
“Penny, you know I don’t like to grant such favors,” Mr. Parker frowned when the conversation was repeated to him. “As a matter of principle, it never pays to withhold information unless the telling will harm innocent persons.”
“In this case, it will damage the institution,” Penny argued quietly. “Besides, I feel more or less responsible. What started out as a nice little party for the orphans, ended in a regular brawl. It was planned primarily for Adelle and then she ran away because she wasn’t permitted to attend.”
Starting at the very beginning, Penny told her father everything that had happened during the night. The tale was one of absorbing interest to Mr. Parker. When she had finished, he said: