Penny talked entertainingly, relating the various difficulties which beset a young publisher.
“I’ve even received threatening notes,” she revealed. “Or rather, one. I think it was left on my desk by a man named Peter Fenestra.”
“Fenestra?” Mr. Judson’s face darkened.
“Yes,” answered Penny, watching the publisher attentively. “Do you know him?”
“Only by reputation. He’s a scoundrel!” His voice grew quite intense.
“Can you tell me anything definite against him?”
“No—no, I can’t. I only advise you to have nothing whatsoever to do with him.”
The telephone rang and Mr. Judson arose to answer it. During his absence, Penny thought swiftly. Dared she mention the clipping which she had found in the publisher’s desk? She did not wish to antagonize him, yet there were many questions she longed to ask.
Mr. Judson presently returned. Penny decided to risk his anger.
Casually she introduced the subject by mentioning that she was using Mr. Judson’s former office and desk as her own.