“Penny—” he began sternly.
“Where was I last night?” she interrupted. “I’ve said before, and now repeat—in a well! A nice deep one with water in it.”
“When you’re ready to tell me the real story, I shall listen,” Mr. Parker said quietly. “Until that time, I must deprive you of your weekly allowance.”
“Oh, Dad!” Penny wailed. “You know I’m stony broke! I won’t be able to drive my car or even buy a hot dog!”
“That is your misfortune. Mrs. Weems says I have been entirely too indulgent with you, and I am inclined to agree with her. I’ve seldom checked your comings or goings, but in the future I shall expect you to tell me your plans when you leave the house at night.”
Having delivered his ultimatum, Mr. Parker quietly withdrew.
Penny had lost her appetite for breakfast. Feeling much abused she banged out the kitchen door into the yard. Her first act was to inspect the gasoline tanks of both Leaping Lena and the maroon car. As she had feared, the combined fuel supply did not equal three gallons.
“There’s just about fifty-five miles between me and misery,” she reflected grimly. “I wouldn’t dare siphon gas out of Dad’s car or ask for credit at a filling station either!”
Wandering around to the front porch, she sat down on the steps. One of her high school boy friends pedalled past on his bicycle, calling a cheery greeting. Penny barely responded.
Presently a milk wagon clattered to a stop in front of the house. The driver came up the walk with his rack of milk bottles. Penny eyed him speculatively.