Signal in the Dark

by Mildred A. Wirt

  CHAPTER 5 _SHADOW ON THE SKYLIGHT_

  Ignoring the thrust, Penny hung up her hat and coat and went to work.Neither Editor DeWitt nor his assistant, Mr. Jewell, made any referenceto the explosion story of the previous day.

  Another reporter had written the "follow-up" on it which Penny read withinterest. Cause of the explosion, responsible for more than $40,000damages, had not yet been determined. However, Fire Chief Schirr hadstated that there was evidence the explosion had not been accidental.Several witnesses had reported seeing a man in light overcoat flee fromthe building only a few minutes before the disaster.

  "He must have been the fellow who leaped into that waiting car andescaped!" Penny thought. "And to think, Salt's picture might actually beevidence in the case, if I hadn't thrown it away!"

  She was staring glumly at the story when DeWitt motioned for her to takea telephone call. It was another obituary.

  "After muffing a good story, I'll probably be assigned to these thingsfor the rest of my time on the paper," Penny thought as she mechanicallyscribbled notes.

  All morning the obituaries kept coming in, and then there were thehospitals to call for accident reports, and the weather bureau. Afterlunch, a reporter was needed to interview a famous actress who hadarrived in Riverview for a personal appearance. It was just the storyPenny wanted to try. She knew she could do it well, for in months past,she frequently had contributed special feature stories to the paper.

  Mr. DeWitt's gaze focused upon her for an instant, but he passed her by.

  "Elda," he said, and she went quickly to his desk to receiveinstructions.

  Elda was gone a long while on the assignment. When she returned in theafternoon, she spent nearly two hours typing the interview. Several timesEditor DeWitt glanced impatiently at her, and finally he said: "Let'shave a start on that story, Elda. You've been fussing with it longenough."

  She gave it to him. As Mr. DeWitt read, he used his pencil to mark outlarge blocks of what had been written. But as he gave the story to a copyreader who would write the headline, he said: "Give her a byline."

  Elda heard and grinned from ear to ear. A byline meant that a captiondirectly under the headline would proclaim: "By Elda Hunt."

  Penny, who also heard, could not know that Mr. DeWitt had granted thebyline only because it was customary with a personal interview story. Shefelt even more depressed than before.

  "See if you can find a picture of this actress in the photography room,"DeWitt instructed Elda. "Salt Sommers took one this morning, but ithasn't come up yet."

  With a swishing of skirts, for she now was in a fine mood, Eldadisappeared down the corridor. Fifteen minutes elapsed. Penny, busywriting hand-outs and obituaries, had forgotten about her entirely, untilMr. DeWitt summoned her to his desk.

  "See if you can find out what became of Elda," he said in exasperation."Tell her we'd like to have that picture for today's paper."

  Penny went quickly toward the photography room. The door was closed. Asshe opened it, she was startled half out of her wits by hearing a shrillscream. The cry unmistakably came from an inner room of the photographystudio and was Elda's voice. At the same instant, a gust of cool airstruck Penny's face.

  "Elda!" she called in alarm.

  "Here," came the girl's muffled voice from the inner room.

  Fearing the worst, Penny darted through the doorway. Elda had collapsedin a chair, her face white with terror. Wordlessly, she pointed towardthe ceiling.

  Penny gazed up but could see nothing amiss. Warm sunshine was pouringthrough the closed skylight which covered half the ceiling area.

  "What ails you, Elda?" she asked. "Why did you scream?"

  "The skylight!"

  "What about the skylight?" Penny demanded with increasing impatience. "Ican't see anything wrong with it."

  "Only a moment ago I saw a shadow there," Elda whispered in awe.

  "A shadow!" Penny was tempted to laugh. "What sort of shadow?"

  "I--I can't describe it. But it must have been a human shadow. I think aman was crouching there."

  "Nonsense, you must have imagined it."

  "But I didn't," Elda insisted indignantly. "I saw it just before youopened the door."

  "Did the skylight open?"

  "Not that I saw."

  Recalling the cool gust of wind that had struck her face, Penny tookthought. Was it possible that Elda actually had seen someone crouching onthe skylight? However, the idea seemed fantastic. She could think of noreason why any person would hide on the roof above the photography room.

  "Oh, snap out of it, Elda," she said carelessly. "Even if you did see ashadow, what of it?"

  "It was a man, I tell you!"

  "A workman perhaps. Mr. DeWitt sent me to tell you he was in a hurry forthat picture."

  "Oh, tell Mr. DeWitt to jump in an ink well!" Elda retorted angrily."He's always in a hurry."

  "You haven't been watching a shadow all this time, I judge," Pennycommented.

  "Of course not. I went downstairs to get a candy bar."

  With a sigh, Elda pulled herself from the chair. She really did look asif she had undergone a bad fright, Penny observed. Feeling a trifle sorryfor the girl, she helped her find the photograph, and they started withit to the newsroom.

  "I'd not say anything about the shadow if I were you, Elda," Pennyremarked.

  "Why not, pray?"

  "Well, it sounds rather silly."

  "Oh, so I'm silly, am I?"

  "I didn't say that, Elda. I said the idea of a shadow on the skylightstruck me that way. Of course, if you want to be teased about it, whytell everyone."

  "At least I didn't make a mess of an important story," Elda retorted,tossing her head.

  "Elda, why do you dislike me?" Penny demanded suddenly.

  The question was so unexpected that it threw the girl off guard. "Did Isay I did?" she countered.

  "It's obvious that you do."

  "I'll tell you what I dislike," Elda said sharply. "The rest of us herehave to work for our promotions. You'll get yours without even turning ahair--just because you're Mr. Parker's one and only daughter."

  "But that's not true, Elda. I'm expected to earn my way the same as you.I'm working at a beginner's salary."

  "You can't expect me to believe that!"

  "Was it because you thought I was making more money than you, that youchanged the name on the Borman obituary?"

  Elda stopped short. She tried to register indignation, but instead, onlylooked frightened. Penny was certain of her guilt.

  "I haven't told Mr. DeWitt, and I don't intend to," she said quietly."But I'm warning you! If anything like that happens again, you'll answerfor it!"

  "Well, of all the nerve!" Elda exploded, but her voice lacked fire. "Ofall the nerve!"

  Penny deliberately walked away from her.

  The day dragged on. At five-thirty Penny covered her typewriter andtelephoned Mrs. Weems.

  "I'll be late coming home tonight," she said apologetically. "I thought Imight get dinner downtown and perhaps go to a show."

  "Another hard day?" the housekeeper asked sympathetically.

  "Much easier than yesterday," Penny said, making her voice soundcheerful. "Don't worry about me. I'll be home no later than nine."

  Though she would not have confessed it even to herself, Penny wasreluctant to meet her father at dinner time. He might not ask questions,but his all-knowing, all-seeing eyes would read her secrets. At a glancehe could tell that newspaper work was not going well for her, and thatshe disliked it.

  "I certainly won't give him an opportunity to even think, 'I told youso,'" she reflected. "Even if it kills me, I'll stick here, and I'llpretend to like it too!"

  Because it was too early to dine, Penny walked aimlessly toward theriver. She paused at a dock to watch two boys fishing, and then saunteredon toward the passenger wharves.

  A young man in an unpressed suit,
and shoes badly in need of a shine,leaned against one of the freight buildings. Seeing Penny, he pulled hishat low over his eyes, and became engrossed in lighting a cigarette.

  She would have passed him by without a second glance, save that hedeliberately turned his back to shield his face. The hunch of hisshoulders struck her as strangely familiar.

  Involuntarily, she exclaimed: "Ben! Ben Bartell!"

  He turned then and she saw that she had not been mistaken. The young manindeed was a former reporter for the _Riverview Mirror_, a news magazinepublished weekly. Ben had not shaved that day, and he looked years olderthan when she last had seen him.

  "Hello, Penny," he said uncomfortably.

  "Ben, what has happened to you?" she asked. "Why were you trying to avoidme?"

  Ben did not reply for a moment. Then he said quietly: "Why should I wantto see any of my old friends now? Just look at me and you have youranswer."

  "Why, Ben! You were one of the best reporters the _Mirror_ ever had!"

  "_Were_ is right," returned Ben with a grim smile. "Haven't worked therefor six months now. The truth is, I'm down and out."

  "Why, that's ridiculous, Ben! Nearly every paper in town needs a goodman."

  "They don't need me."

  "Ben, you sound so bitter! What has happened to you?"

  "It's a long story, sister, and not for your dainty little ears."

  Penny now was deeply troubled, for she had known Ben well and liked him.

  "Ben, you must tell me," she urged, taking his arm. "We're going into arestaurant, and while we have dinner together, you must explain why youleft the _Mirror_."