The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Baffled by the cold refusal, Penny turned away. Even though she knew the telephone man had no authority to grant her request, she was none the less annoyed.

  “This is enough to drive one mad!” she complained to Louise. “It may be hours before the downtown telephone office will offer toll service.”

  “Well, it does no good to fret about it,” her chum shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Penny muttered.

  Her attention had been drawn to a man in a gray business suit who was talking earnestly to the fireman of the line gang.

  “That’s Mr. Nordwall!” she announced.

  Again abandoning Louise, she pushed through the throng of spectators. Touching the man’s arm to attract his attention, she said breathlessly:

  “Mr. Nordwall, do you remember me?”

  He gazed at her without recognition.

  “I’m Penny Parker. I want to get a message through to my father.”

  “Oh, yes, now I remember!” the telephone company manager exclaimed. “You’re trying to send a call through to Riverview.”

  “Is there any reason why I can’t use the phone now—the test instrument?”

  “Such a procedure would be very irregular.”

  “But it would save hours in getting my story through,” Penny went on quickly. “Hundreds of persons are desperately in need of food and shelter. If the public can be aroused by newspaper publicity, funds will be subscribed generously. Mr. Nordwall, you must let me send my story!”

  “This is a very great emergency,” the manager agreed. “I’ll see what can be done.”

  Penny waited, scarcely daring to hope. However, Mr. Nordwall kept his word. To the delight of the girls, the call was put through. Within ten minutes Penny was summoned to the test box.

  “You have your connection with Riverview,” she was told. “Go ahead.”

  Penny raised the receiver to her ear. Her hand trembled she was so nervous and excited. She spoke tensely into the transmitter: “Hello, is this the Star office?”

  “Anthony Parker speaking,” said the voice of her father.

  “Dad, this is Penny! I have the story for you!”

  She heard her father’s voice at the other end of the line but it became so weak she could not distinguish a word. Nor could he understand her. The connection had failed.

  CHAPTER 24

  A BIG STORY

  Penny despaired, fearing that she never could make her father understand what she had to tell him. Then unexpectedly the wire trouble cleared and Mr. Parker’s voice fairly boomed in her ear.

  “Is that you, Penny? Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes, Dad!” she answered eagerly. “And so is Louise! We have the story for you—couldn’t get it out before.”

  “Thought we never would hear from you again,”Mr. Parker said, his voice vibrant. “Your flash on the flood scooped the country. We’re still ahead of the other newspapers. Shoot me all the facts.”

  Penny talked rapidly but distinctly. Facts had been imprinted indelibly on her memory. She had no need to refer to notes except to verify names. Now and then Mr. Parker interrupted to ask a question. When the story had been told he said crisply:

  “You’ve done marvelously, Penny! But we’ll need more names. Get as complete a list of the missing as you can.”

  “I’ll try, Dad.”

  “And pictures. So far all we have are a few airplane shots of the flooded valley. Can you get ahold of a camera?”

  “I doubt it,” Penny said dubiously.

  “Try anyhow,” her father urged. “And keep on the lookout for Salt Sommers. He’s on his way there now with two reporters. They’re bringing in a portable wire photo set.”

  “Then you plan to send flood pictures direct from here to Riverview?”

  “That’s the set up,” Mr. Parker replied. “If you can get the pictures and have them waiting, we’ll beat every other paper in the country!”

  “I’ll do my best,” Penny promised. “But it’s a hard assignment.”

  She talked a moment longer before abandoning the test ’phone to one of the linemen. Seeking Louise, she repeated the conversation.

  “But how can we get a camera?” her chum asked hopelessly. “Delta’s stores are under water—most of them at least.”

  Though the situation seemed impossible, the girls tramped from one debris-clogged street to another. After an hour’s search they came upon a man who was snapping pictures with a box camera. Questioned by Penny, he agreed to part with it for twenty dollars.

  “I haven’t that many cents,” Penny admitted. “But my father is owner of the Riverview Star. I’ll guarantee that you’ll receive your money later.”

  “How do I know I’ll ever see you again?”

  “You don’t,” said Penny. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “You look honest,” the man agreed after a pause. “I’ll take a chance.”

  He gave Penny the camera, together with three rolls of film. The girls carefully wrote down his name and address.

  “Now to get our pictures,” Penny said, as she and Louise started on once more. “We’ll take a few of the streets. Then I want to get some human-interest shots.”

  “How about the railroad station?” Louise suggested. “A great many of the refugees are being cared for there.”

  Penny nodded assent. Hastening toward the depot, they paused several times to snap pictures they thought were especially suitable for newspaper reproduction.

  Along the railroad right-of-way crews of men were hard at work, but it was evident that it would be days before train service could be resumed.

  Penny and Louise went into the crowded waiting room of the depot. Joe Quigley had locked himself into the inner office, but even there he was surrounded by a group of argumentative young men.

  “Reporters!” Penny observed alertly. “I knew it wouldn’t take them long to get here!”

  The newspaper men were bombarding Quigley with questions, demanding to know when and how they could send out their newspaper copy.

  “I can’t help you, boys,” he said regretfully. “It will be two hours at least before we have wire service. Better try the telephone company.”

  Just then one of the newsmen spied Penny and her camera. Immediately he hailed her. The other reporters flocked about the two girls, offering to buy any of the films at fancy prices.

  “Sorry,” Penny declined. “My pictures are earmarked for the Riverview Star.”

  “What? Didn’t you hear?” one of the men bantered. “Their wire photo car broke down just this side of Hobostein. The Star won’t move in here before night. By then your pictures will be old stuff.”

  “Better sell to us,” urged another.

  Penny shook her head. She wasn’t sure whether or not the men were joking. In any case she meant to hold her pictures until her father released them.

  Between Hobostein and Delta there was only one highway over which a car could pass. The arrival of newspaper men led Penny to believe that this road now was open.

  “Dad told me to keep a sharp watch for Salt Sommers,” she said to Louise. “Let’s post ourselves by the road where we can see incoming cars.”

  “What about the pictures we planned to take here?”

  “I do want to snap one or two,” Penny admitted. “It’s embarrassing though, just to walk up to a group and ask to take a picture.”

  As the girls debated, the door swung open. Into the already over-crowded room stumbled a new group of refugees.

  Suddenly Penny’s gaze fastened upon a haggard woman who looked grotesque in a man’s overcoat many sizes too large for her. The face was half-buried in the high collar, and she could not see it plainly. Then the woman turned, and Penny recognized her.

  “Mrs. Burmaster!” she cried.

  The woman stared at the two girls with leaden eyes. She did not seem to recognize them.

  “Oh, we’re so glad you’re safe!”
Penny cried, rushing to her. “Your husband?”

  Mrs. Burmaster’s lips moved, but no sound came. She seemed stunned by what she had gone through.

  “Do you know what happened to Mrs. Lear?”Penny asked anxiously. “Have you heard?”

  Even then Mrs. Burmaster did not speak. But a strange light came into her eyes.

  “Tell me,” Penny urged. “Please.”

  Her words seemed to penetrate the befogged mind of the dazed woman. Mrs. Burmaster’s lips moved slightly. Penny bent closer to hear.

  “Mrs. Lear is dead,” the woman whispered. “She was drowned when she saved me.”

  CHAPTER 25

  MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

  The information shocked Penny.

  “Mrs. Lear—dead,” she repeated. “Oh, I was hoping that somehow she escaped.”

  “She would have if it hadn’t been for me,” Mrs. Burmaster said dully. “Ten minutes before the dam gave way, a telephone warning was sent out. Mrs. Lear thought my husband and I might not have heard it. She rode her horse to Sleepy Hollow, intending to warn us.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “Just as Mrs. Lear reached our place, the wall of water came roaring down the valley. We all ran out of the house, hoping to reach the hills. We did get to higher ground but we saw we couldn’t make it. Mrs. Lear made my husband and me climb into a tree. Before she could follow us, the water came.”

  “Mrs. Lear was swept away?”

  “Yes, we saw her struggling and then the water carried her beyond sight.” Mrs. Burmaster covered her face. “Oh, it was horrible! And to think that it was all my fault!”

  “Where is your husband now?” Penny inquired kindly.

  “Outside, I think,” Mrs. Burmaster murmured. “We were brought here together in a boat.”

  Penny and Louise went outdoors and after a brief search found Mr. Burmaster. His clothing was caked with mud, his face was unshaven and he looked years older.

  To his wife’s story he could add little. “This has been a dreadful shock,” he told Penny. “Now that it’s too late I realize what a stubborn fool I was. My wife and I are responsible for Mrs. Lear’s death.”

  “No, no, you mustn’t say that,” Penny tried to comfort him. “It was impossible for anyone to predict what would happen.”

  “Sleepy Hollow is gone—completely washed away,” Mr. Burmaster went on bitterly. “The estate cost me a fortune.”

  “But you can rebuild.”

  “I never shall. My wife never could be happy in Red Valley. Now that this terrible thing has occurred, it would be intolerable to remain. I’ve been thinking matters over. I’ve decided to deed all the land I bought back to the valley folk. It’s the least I can do to right a great wrong.”

  “It would be very generous of you,” said Penny, her eyes shining.

  The girls talked with Mr. Burmaster for a little while and then started toward US highway 20, intending to watch incoming cars. Ambulances, army and supply trucks now were flowing into Delta in a steady stream. However, midway there, they spied a car coming toward them which bore “Riverview Star” on its windshield.

  “There’s Salt now!” Penny cried, signaling frantically.

  The car stopped with a jerk. The Star photographer sat behind the wheel, while beside him were two men from the paper’s news department.

  “Well, well,” Salt greeted the girls jovially. He swung open the car door. “If it isn’t Penny, the child wonder! Meet Roy Daniels and Joe Wiley.”

  Acknowledging the introduction, Penny and Louise squeezed into the front seat of the sedan. Driving on, Salt plied them with questions. Penny told him how rival newsmen had tried to buy her camera pictures.

  “Good for you, hanging onto them!” Salt approved warmly. “Our car never did break down. By the way, where can we set up our portable wire photo equipment?”

  “There’s only one possibility. The telephone company. Right now they have the only wire service in Delta.”

  Penny directed Salt through the few streets that were clear of debris to the telephone building. There the portable wire photo equipment quickly was set up. Penny’s camera pictures were developed, and though some of the shots were over-exposed there were four good enough to send over the network.

  “Mr. Nordwall has six toll lines out of Delta now,”Salt told the girls jubilantly. “He’s letting us have one of them.”

  Carefully the photographer tested the controls of the wire photo machine. He listened briefly to the hum of the motor. Satisfied that everything was running properly, he attached one of the freshly printed pictures to the transmitting cylinder.

  “Okay,” he signaled to Mr. Nordwall. “Give us a toll to the Riverview Star.”

  Within a few minutes the order came: “Network clear. Go ahead, Delta.”

  Salt turned on a switch and the sending cylinder began to revolve. One by one Penny’s pictures were transmitted over the wire.

  “Your shots are the first to get out of Red Valley!”Salt told her triumphantly. “Your work’s done now. Better crawl off somewhere and sleep.”

  Penny nodded wearily. She was glad to know that the Star would scoop every other paper in the country on the flood story and pictures. Still, for some reason she couldn’t feel very happy about it. As she turned away, Salt called: “Hey, wait! Your father’s on the wire photo phone. He wants to talk to you.”

  Penny caught up the receiver eagerly.

  “That you, Penny?” a blurred voice asked in her ear. “Congratulations! You came through with flying colors!”

  “Guess I was lucky to come through at all,” Penny said slowly. “Some weren’t so fortunate.”

  “Just now the important thing is when are you coming home?” Mr. Parker asked. “Can you get here today?”

  To Penny, the thought of home and a soft bed was more alluring than any other earthly bliss.

  “I’ll certainly try, Dad,” she promised. “Yes, somehow I’ll get there.”

  After Penny ended the conversation with her father, she and Louise talked to Salt about the prospects of a trip home. Regretfully he explained that with a big story to cover, he probably would not be leaving that day.

  “But there are plenty of cars going out of here,” he encouraged them. “Why not go down to the depot and make inquiries.”

  The idea seemed an excellent one. At the station the girls talked again with Joe Quigley who assured them he knew of a car that was leaving very shortly.

  “Hurry out to Highway 20 and I think you can catch the fellow,” he urged.

  Hastily saying goodbye not only to Joe but to Mr. and Mrs. Burmaster who remained in the crowded station, the girls went outside. As they rounded a corner of the building a voice fairly boomed at them:“Hello, folks!”

  Penny and Louise whirled around to see Silas Malcom coming toward them. Clinging to his arm was a spry little woman in a borrowed coat and hat.

  “Mrs. Lear!” gasped the girls in one voice.

  “It takes more than a flood to wash me away!” chirped the old lady, bright as a cricket.

  Penny and Louise rushed to embrace her. Eagerly they plied her with questions.

  “I’m jest like a cat with nine lives,” old Mrs. Lear chuckled. “When the flood carried me off, I didn’t give up—not me. I was a purty good swimmer as a gal and I ain’t so bad even now. I kinda went with the current until I got ahold of a log. There I clung until a Red Cross boat picked me up.”

  Mrs. Lear’s safe arrival at Delta thrilled Penny and Louise. They rushed into the station to bring Mr. and Mrs. Burmaster who shared their great relief over the rescue. And Penny was delighted when Mr. Burmaster repeated to the old lady what he had told her—that he intended to allow his property to revert to the former tenants.

  “That’s mighty good of you, Mr. Burmaster,” the old lady thanked him. “What we’ve been through has taught us all a bitter lesson. I’m ashamed of the way I acted.”

  “You were justified in your attitude,” the
estate owner acknowledged.

  “No, I wasn’t. It was childish o’ me tryin’ to take my spite out on your wife. I’m especially sorry about the way I egged Joe Quigley onto that Headless Horseman trick.”

  “I was afraid you were behind it,” smiled Mr. Burmaster. “Oh, well, it all seems trivial now. We’ll forget everything.”

  “There are some things,” said Penny quietly, “that I doubt we’ll ever erase from our minds.” She turned to the old lady and asked: “Won’t you come to Riverview with Louise and me? You’ll need a place to stay—”

  Mrs. Lear’s gaze met hers, challengingly but with a twinkle of humor.

  “And what better place could I have than this?” she demanded with quiet finality. “Red Valley is my home, and my home it will be till the end o’ time!”

  VOICE FROM THE CAVE

  CHAPTER 1

  AN UNINVITED GUEST

  “Mrs. Weems, what can be delaying Dad? He promised faithfully to be home by three o’clock and it’s nearly five now. Unless we start soon we’ll never get to Sunset Beach tonight.”

  Penny Parker, in blue slacks and a slightly mussed polo shirt, gazed disconsolately at the over-loaded automobile standing on the gravel driveway of the Parker home. Aided by Mrs. Weems, the family housekeeper, she had spent hours packing the sedan with luggage and camping equipment. Though the task long had been finished, Mr. Parker failed to arrive.

  “Your father is a very busy man,” Mrs. Weems responded to the girl’s question. “No doubt he’s been held up at the office.”

  “Then why doesn’t he telephone? It’s driving me crazy to wait and wonder.”

  Penny’s freckled little face twisted into a grimace of worry. For weeks she and her father, editor-owner of the Riverview Star, had planned a vacation camping trip to the nearby seashore resort, Sunset Beach. Twice the excursion had been postponed. Penny, who knew well her father’s habit of changing his mind, was fearful that even now something would cause another vexing delay.

  “I’m going to call the Star office this minute!” she declared, starting for the house.

  Mrs. Weems busied herself gathering up loose odds and ends that had blown about the yard. She was cramming waste paper into a box when Penny banged out the door, her eyes tragic.