The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Half sick with despair, she kept on. She jotted down names and facts. Mr. Bibbs, an old man who ran a weekly newspaper at Delta, was able to help her more than anyone else. Not only did he give her a partial list of the known missing, but he recited many other facts that had escaped Penny.

  “A million thanks—” she began gratefully, but he waved her into silence.

  “Just get back to the railroad station and send your story,” he urged.

  Penny lost all count of time as she retraced her way along the muddy hillside. Everywhere she saw suffering and destruction. Her mind was so numbed to the sight that she recorded impressions automatically.

  It was long after nightfall before Penny reached the station. Every muscle protested as she dragged herself wearily to the doorstep. During her absence the flood had lowered by nearly a foot. However, the current remained swift, and she steadied herself for a moment against the building wall.

  “Who’s there?” called Quigley sharply.

  “Penny Parker.”

  “Okay, come on in,” the agent invited. “Thought you might be a looter.”

  Penny pushed open the door. The waiting room was filled with men, women and children who slumped in cold misery on the uncomfortable row of seats. Few were provided with any warm clothing.

  Penny splashed through the dark, musty room to the inner office. Quigley had lighted a smoky oil lamp which revealed that he had made himself a bed on top of the telegraph desk.

  “I’m turning in for the night,” he explained. “There’s nothing more we can do until morning.”

  “How about my story to the Star?” Penny asked wearily. “Is the special wire set up yet?”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Quigley replied. “The Dispatcher’s wire went out for good over an hour ago. Too bad you killed yourself to get that story, because it will have to wait.”

  “But it mustn’t wait,” Penny protested. “Dad’s counting on me. I gave my promise. How about the telephone company?”

  “Their lines are all down.”

  “Western Union?”

  “It’s the same with them. Repair crews are on their way here but it will take time. The valley’s completely cut off from communication.”

  “For how long?”

  “Listen, Penny, you know as much about it as I do. The airfields are under water.”

  “How about the roads?”

  “Open only part of the way.”

  Completely discouraged, Penny sagged into a chair by the ticket counter. She was wet through, plastered with mud, hungry, and tired enough to collapse. After all of her work and suffering, her efforts had been in vain. By morning experienced city reporters and photographers would swarm into the valley. Her scoop would be no scoop at all.

  “Oh, brace up,” Quigley encouraged carelessly.

  “But I’ve failed Dad. It would mean a lot to him to get an exclusive story of this disaster. I gave him my promise I’d send the facts—now I’ve failed.”

  “It’s not your fault the wire couldn’t be set up,”Quigley tried to encourage her. “Here, I managed to get ahold of a blanket for you. Wrap up in it and grab some sleep. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Penny acknowledged gloomily.

  Taking off the muddy boots, she rolled herself into the warm blanket. Curling up into the chair she pillowed her head on the desk and slept the untroubled sleep of complete exhaustion.

  CHAPTER 22

  WANTED—A WIRE

  Toward morning Penny awoke to find her limbs stiff and cramped. Murky, fetid water still flowed over the floor of the station. However, it had lowered during the night, leaving a rim of oozy mud to mark the office walls. The first ray of light streamed through the broken window.

  Penny yawned and stretched her cramped feet. She felt wretched and dirty. Her clothing was stiff and caked with mud. She scraped off what she could and washed face and hands in a basin of water she found at the back end of the room.

  When she returned, Joe Quigley was awake.

  “My neck! My arm! My whole anatomy!” he complained, rubbing a hand over his stubbly beard. “I’m a cripple for life.”

  “I feel the same way,” Penny grinned. “I’m hungry too. Anything to eat around here?”

  “Not a crumb. The folks out in the waiting room broke into all the vending machines last night. There’s not so much as a piece of candy left.”

  “And there’s no place in Delta where food can be bought.”

  “Not that I know of. Only a few relief kitchens were set up last night. They can’t begin to take care of the mob.”

  Penny peered out into the crowded waiting room. Mothers with babies in their arms had sat there all night. Some of the refugees were weeping; others accepted their lot with stoical calm. Seeing such misery, Penny forgot her own hunger and discomfort.

  “Don’t you think help will come soon?” she asked Quigley.

  “Hard to tell,” he replied. “It should.”

  Penny went out into the waiting room but there was very little she could do to help the unfortunate sufferers. She gave one of the women her blanket.

  “That was foolish of you,” Quigley told her a moment later. “You’ll likely need it yourself.”

  “I’d rather go without,” Penny replied. “Anyway, I can’t bear to stay here any longer. I’m going to the telephone office.”

  “Why there?”

  “The building stands high and should be one of the first places to reopen,” Penny declared hopefully. “Maybe I can get a long distance call through to Dad.”

  “Better leave some of your story with me,” advised Quigley. “If we get a wire before the telephone company does, I’ll try to send it for you.”

  Penny scribbled a hundred word message, packing it solidly with facts. If ever it reached Riverview a Star rewrite man could enlarge it to at least a column.

  Saying goodbye to Joe, Penny made her way toward all that remained of Delta’s business section. She had not seen Louise since the previous afternoon and was greatly worried about her.

  “I know she’s safe,” she told herself. “But I must find her.”

  Penny was not alone on the devastated streets. Refugees wandered aimlessly about, seeking loved ones or treasured possessions. Long lines of shivering people waited in front of a church that had been converted into a soup kitchen.

  Penny joined the line. Just as a woman handed her a steaming cup of hot broth, she heard her name spoken. Turning quickly, she saw Louise running toward her from across the street.

  “Penny! Penny!” her chum cried joyfully.

  “Careful,” Penny cautioned, balancing the cup of soup. “This broth is as precious as gold.”

  “Oh, you poor thing!” cried Louise, hugging her convulsively. “You look dreadful.”

  “That’s because I’m so hungry,” Penny laughed. “Have you had anything to eat?”

  “Oh, yes, I stayed at that farmhouse on the hill last night. I actually had a bed to sleep in and a good hot breakfast this morning. But I’ve been dreadfully worried about you.”

  “And that goes double,” answered Penny. “Wait until I gobble this soup, and we’ll compare notes.”

  She drank the broth greedily and the girls walked away from the church. Penny then told of her experiences since leaving her chum on the hillside. Louise was much relieved to learn that word had been sent to Riverview of their safety.

  “But what of Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters?” she asked anxiously. “Have you heard what happened to them?”

  Penny shook her head. “Joe Quigley thinks they didn’t have a chance.”

  “I can’t comprehend it somehow,” Louise said with a shudder. “It just doesn’t seem possible. Why, we were guests in Mrs. Lear’s home less than twenty-four hours ago.”

  “I know,” agreed Penny soberly. “I keep hoping that somehow they escaped.”

  “If only we could learn the truth.”

  “There’s not a
chance to get through now,” Penny said slowly. “The water’s gone down a little, but not enough.”

  “If we had a boat—”

  “The current is still so swift we couldn’t handle it.”

  “I suppose not,” Louise admitted hopelessly. “When do you suppose the Relief folks will get here?”

  “They should be moving in at any time. And when they come they’ll probably be trailed by a flock of reporters and photographers.”

  “This flood will be a big story,” Louise acknowledged.

  “Big? It’s one of the greatest news stories of the year! And here I am, helpless to send out a single word of copy.”

  “You mean that folks outside of the valley don’t know about the flood?” Louise gasped.

  “The news went out, but only as a flash. Before we could give any details, our only wire connection was lost.”

  “Then the first reporter to get his news out of the valley will have a big story?”

  “That’s the size of it,” Penny nodded. “The worst of it is that Dad’s depending upon me.”

  “But he can’t expect you to do the impossible. If there are no wire connections it’s not your fault. Anyhow, as soon as one is set up you’ll be able to send your story.”

  “Other reporters will be here by that time. Experienced men. Maybe they’ll get the jump on me.”

  “I’ll venture they won’t!” Louise said with emphasis. “You’ve never failed yet on a story.”

  “This is more than a story, Lou. It’s a great human tragedy. Somehow I don’t feel a bit like a reporter—I just feel bewildered and rather stunned.”

  “You’re tired and half sick,” Louise said. She linked arms with Penny and guided her away from the long line of refugees.

  “Where to?” she asked after they had wandered for some distance.

  “I was starting for the telephone company office when I met you.”

  “Why the telephone office?” Louise asked.

  “Well, it’s high and dry. I thought that by some chance they might have a wire connection.”

  “Then let’s go there by all means,” urged Louise.

  Farther down the debris-clogged street the girls came to the telephone company offices. The building, one of the newest and tallest in Delta, had been gutted by the flood. However, the upper floors remained dry and emergency quarters had been established there. Nearly all employees were at their posts.

  Penny and Louise pushed their way through the throng of refugees that had taken possession of the lower floor. Climbing the stairs to the telephone offices they asked to see the manager.

  “Mr. Nordwall isn’t seeing anyone,” they were informed. “He’s very busy.”

  Penny persisted. She explained that her business was urgent and concerned getting a news story through to Riverview. After a long delay she was allowed to talk to the manager, a harassed, over-worked man named Nordwall.

  “Please state your case briefly,” he said wearily.

  Penny explained again that she wished to get a story of the flood through to her father’s paper, and asked what hope there was.

  “Not much, I’m afraid,” the man replied. “We haven’t a single toll line at present.”

  “How soon do you expect to get one?”

  The manager hesitated, unwilling to commit himself. “By noon we may have one wire west,” he said reluctantly.

  Penny asked if she could have first chance at it. Nordwall regretfully shook his head.

  “Relief work must come before news.”

  “Then there’s no way to get my story out?”

  “I suggest that you place your call in the usual way,” Mr. Nordwall instructed. “I’ll tell our Long Distance Chief Operator to put it ahead of everything except relief work messages.”

  Penny obeyed the manager’s suggestion. However, she and Louise both knew that there was slight chance the call would go through in time to do any good.

  “No use waiting around here,” Penny said gloomily. “The wire won’t even be set up before noon.”

  Leaving the telephone building, the girls sloshed back toward the railroad. Suddenly Louise drew Penny’s attention to an airplane flying low overhead. It flew so close to the ground that they could read“United Press,” on the wings.

  “Well, it looks as if the news boys are moving in,”Penny observed. “Probably taking photographs of the flood.”

  The airplane circled Delta and then vanished eastward. Walking on, the girls met an armed soldier who passed them without a glance.

  “The National Guard,” Penny commented. “That means a road is open.”

  “And it means that help is here at last!” Louise cried. “Property will be protected now and some order will be established!”

  Penny remained silent.

  “Aren’t you glad?” Louise demanded, staring at her companion.

  “Yes, I’m glad,” Penny said slowly. “I truly am. But the opening of the road means that within a very little while every news service in the country will have men here.”

  “And you’ve lost your chance to send an exclusive story to the Star.”

  “I’ve let Dad down,” Penny admitted. “He depended upon me and I failed him dismally.”

  CHAPTER 23

  TOLL LINE TO RIVERVIEW

  Penny and Louise trudged slowly on toward the railroad tracks. They were too discouraged for much conversation, and avoided speaking of Mrs. Lear or the Burmasters. Sleepy Hollow had been washed away, but no one could tell them what had happened to the unfortunate ones caught in the valley.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Penny said dispiritedly,“but I know who masqueraded as the Headless Horseman. Joe Quigley.”

  “The station agent!”

  “Yes, he told me about it last night. Of course Mrs. Lear let him use her horse, and no doubt she encouraged him in the idea.”

  “They did it to plague the Burmasters?”

  “Joe thought he could bring Mr. Burmaster around to his way of thinking about the Huntley Dam.”

  “How stupid everyone was,” Louise sighed. “If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Burmaster’s stubbornness, her husband might have given the money to save the dam. Then this dreadful disaster would have been prevented.”

  Penny nodded absently. Her gaze was fixed upon a stout man just ahead who wore climbing irons on his heavy shoes. She nudged Louise.

  “See that fellow?”

  “Why, yes. What about him?”

  “I’m sure he’s a telephone lineman. Probably he’s working on the line by the railroad.”

  “Probably,” Louise agreed, without much interest.

  “Come on,” Penny urged, quickening pace. “Let’s talk to him.”

  The girls overtook the workman and fell into step. Penny questioned him and readily learned that he was working close by at the washed-out railroad bridge.

  “We’re aiming to shoot a wire across the river,” the man volunteered. “It’s going to be one tough little job.”

  “Mind if we go along?” Penny asked eagerly.

  “It’s okay with me,” the telephone man consented. “Hard walking though.”

  Flood waters had receded from the railroad right-of-way leaving a long stretch of twisted rails and slimey road-bed. They waded through the mud, soon coming to the break where the bridge had swung aside. Debris of every variety had piled high against the wrecked steel structure. Flood water boiled through the gap at a furious rate.

  “I don’t see how they’ll ever get a cable across there,” Penny commented dubiously.

  “Coast Guardsmen are helping us,” the lineman explained. “They’ll shoot it over with a Lyle gun—we hope.”

  Penny and Louise wandered toward the gap in the roadbed. On both shores, linemen and cable splicers were hard at work. Coast Guardsmen already had set up their equipment and all was in readiness to shoot a cable across the river.

  “Okay, let ’er go!” rang out the terse order. “Stand clear!”

&nbs
p; A Coast Guardsman raised the Lyle gun. Making certain that the steel wire would run free, he released the trigger. The weighted cable flashed through the air in a beautiful arch only to fall short of its goal.

  “Not enough allowance for the wind,” the guardsman said in disgust. “We’ll need a heavier charge.”

  The gun was reloaded, and again the wire spun from its spool. Again it fell short of the far shore by three feet. Undaunted by failure, the men tried once more. This time the aim was true, and the heavy powder charge carried rod and cable to its mark.

  “They’ve done it!” Penny cried jubilantly. “Now it shouldn’t be long before we get a wire connection with the outside world!”

  Immediately telephone company men seized the flexible cable, anchoring it solidly. Heavy cables then were drawn across and made fast, permitting a courageous lineman in a bosun’s chair to work high above the turbulent river.

  “If that cable should break, he’d be lost!” Louise said with a shudder. “It makes me jumpy to watch him.”

  Fearlessly the man accomplished his task, suspending a temporary emergency telephone line. Cable splicers promptly carried the ends of the new cable to terminal boxes.

  So absorbed was Penny in watching the task that for a time she forgot her own urgent need of a message wire. But as she observed the men talking over a test phone, the realization suddenly came to her that a through wire had been established west from Red Valley.

  “Lou, they’ve done it!” she exclaimed. “The wire connection is made!”

  “It does look that way.”

  “If only I could use that test set to get my news story through to Dad!”

  “Fat chance!”

  “I’d still be the first to send out the story!” Penny went on excitedly. “It will do no harm to ask anyhow.”

  Breaking away from Louise, she sought the lineman of her acquaintance. Eagerly she broached her request.

  “Not a chance to use that line, Sister,” he answered impatiently. “Our ’phones are for testing purposes only.”

  “But this is a very great emergency—”

  “Sorry,” the lineman brought her up short. “You’ll have to put your call through the regular channels. Regulations.”