“No, we can’t,” Penny’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Fred Clousky would taunt me to my dying day. I’ll never close the plant except in a blaze of journalistic glory!”
“But you just said we’re failing—”
“What the Weekly needs and must have is a tremendous story! Somehow I’m going to get it!”
“You’re nothing if not persistent,” said Louise admiringly. “Oh, before I forget it, Old Horney has been up here several times inquiring for you.”
“More bad news I suppose.”
“He didn’t say why he wished to talk with you. I thought he seemed rather disturbed, though.”
“I’ll see what he wants.”
Penny sought Horney in the composing department and pressroom, and even ventured into the basement. The old man was not to be found. Concluding that he had left the building, she gave up the search.
She helped Louise read proof until six o’clock, and then telephoned home to inquire if her father were there. Learning from Mrs. Weems that he did not expect to come until later, she decided to remain downtown for her own dinner.
“Why don’t you stay with me, Lou?” she invited. “Afterwards, I’ll take you on a little adventure.”