“Jerry!” she exclaimed.
“Gosh, how did it start?” he demanded. “Why, Penny, your hair is singed!”
“I was in it,” she said briefly. “I can’t explain now, but the fire was started by Peter Fenestra.”
“On purpose?”
“I don’t know about that. He was smoking a cigarette.”
“Have you told the police?”
“Not yet. I’m waiting for Dad.”
A car inched through the crowd, stopping a few yards away. Mr. Parker leaped out and ran toward the burning building. He was stopped at the entrance by a fireman.
“Let me in there!” the publisher shouted, trying to free himself. “My daughter’s inside!”
“No, here I am, Dad!” Penny cried, grasping his hand.