“Here you are, boys,” she said with an expansive smile. “Two dozen papers each. Sell them for a nickel and keep half of it for yourself. Turn in the money at the Weekly Times office.”
“Two and a half cents!” exclaimed one of the boys. “Gee, that’s more than we get for selling the Star!”
“Generosity is my motto,” laughed Penny. “Just push those papers for all you’re worth.”
Leaving the Star plant, she went directly to the Weekly Times building. Permission had been granted to absent herself from school, and she planned to be busy throughout the day, checking on paper sales.
As Penny unlocked the front door, she noticed that a faint odor of tobacco lingered in the air. A perplexed frown knitted her brow.
“That’s funny,” she thought. “None of the boys are allowed to smoke here. I wonder if someone disobeyed rules, or if there’s really a prowler in the building?”
Too busy to search the plant again, Penny gave the matter scant consideration. Tossing a package of lunch on the counter, she prepared for a hard day’s work.
Now and then, to rest her mind from columns of figures, she wandered to the window. Down the street, newsboys called their wares and it pleased her that they shouted the Weekly Times as frequently as they did the Star.
By ten o’clock the boys began to straggle in with their money. Only a few had failed to sell all of their papers, and not one neglected to make a report. Penny’s final check-up disclosed that six thousand eight hundred and twenty-nine Weeklies had been sold.
“I can’t expect to do that well after the novelty wears off,” she thought. “But one thing is assured. My Weekly isn’t going to be weakly!”