“Well, good luck,” Jerry said. “I suppose it’s all right, or DeWitt wouldn’t have given you the assignment.”
Parting company with the reporter, Penny stopped briefly at the Riverview Hotel to inquire if Mr. Ayling had returned from Chicago. He had not checked in.
“Queer he doesn’t come after sending that telegram,” she thought. “I wonder what’s delaying him?”
Arriving home a few minutes later, Penny heard the sound of pounding as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weems was scraping carrots at the sink.
“Did you have a good time skiing?” the housekeeper inquired.
“Fair.” Penny stripped off her mittens and hung them on a radiator. “Snow’s melting fast today. What’s that awful pounding?”
“Jake Cotton finally came. He’s building the bookcases in your father’s study.”
“Oh, yes,” recalled Penny. “I thought from the sound the place was being torn down!”
After removing her heavy ski suit and putting her skiing equipment away, the girl wandered into the study.
Jake Cotton, a short, wiry old man, was gathering up his tools preparatory to leaving. Boards of various length were strewn over the carpet.