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4. Stolen Tires



"We're very sorry," Louise apologized to the policeman. "We didn't suppose it would do any harm to look at the outside of the boxes."

"Run along, run along," the officer said impatiently.

Penny was tempted to make a rather pointed remark, but Louise pulled her away.

"Never argue with a policeman," she whispered. "You always lose."

"We weren't doing any harm," Penny scowled. "What does he think we are, a couple of female spies?"

Entering the garage, the girls saw that the car had been serviced. Salt could be seen inside the little glass-enclosed office.

"I'm waiting for Sam Burkholder," he explained as they joined him. "He took care of the radiator and then disappeared."

Penny and Louise loitered about the office, reading the evening newspaper. After a little delay, Mattie Williams appeared.

"Can you give me my bill?" Salt requested. "We're in a hurry to get to Riverview."

"I thought Sam was looking after you," Mattie replied, making out the slip.

The bill settled, Salt backed the car from the garage. Penny noticed that Hank Biglow's truck no longer stood in front of the cafe. The police car also had gone. She would have thought no more of it, had not Louise at that moment exclaimed:

"Penny, that truck is parked at the rear of the garage now! And they're unloading the boxes!"

Penny twisted around to see for herself. It was true that the big truck had been backed up close to the rear entrance of the garage. Through the blinding snow, she could just see Hank Biglow and Sam Burkholder carrying one of the boxes into the building.

"Well, that's funny!" she exclaimed. "Those crates can't contain defense machinery or materials. Otherwise Hank wouldn't be delivering them here."

"What crates?" inquired Salt, shifting gears.

Penny told him what had transpired in the cafe, and revealed that she and Louise had been rebuked by the policeman. Salt, occupied with driving, did not consider the incident in any way significant.

"Oh, you know how some cops are," he commented carelessly.

The car went into a wild skid and Salt thereafter devoted his attention strictly to driving.

Without further mishap, the party arrived safely at Riverview. Louise alighted at her own home, and then Salt took Penny to the Parker residence.

"Won't you come in for a cup of chocolate?" she invited.

"Thanks, not tonight," Salt replied. "I'm dead tired. Think I'll hit the hay early."

Only one light burned in the living-room as Penny stomped in out of the cold. Mrs. Weems, the plump housekeeper who had served the Parkers for many years, sat beside the hearth, sewing.

"I'm glad you're home at last!" she exclaimed, getting up quickly. "You've no idea how worried I've been."

"But Louise and I telephoned."

"I couldn't hear you very well. I barely was able to make out that something had happened to your car."

"A major catastrophe, Mrs. Weems. Every tire was stolen!"

While the housekeeper bombarded her with questions, Penny stripped off overshoes and heavy outer clothing. Pools of water began to form on the rug.

"Take everything out to the kitchen," Mrs. Weems said hastily. "Have you had your supper?"

"Not even a nibble. And I'm starving!"

As Mrs. Weems began to prepare a hot meal, Penny perched herself on the kitchen table, alternately talking, and chewing on a sugared bun.

"If you ever were lost in an Arctic blizzard you have a good picture of what Louise and I endured," she narrated grandly. "Oh, it was awful!"

"Losing five practically new tires is a mere detail in comparison?"

"It's nothing less than a tragedy! I was thinking—maybe you ought to break the sad news to Dad."

"Indeed not. You'll have to tell him yourself. However, he's attending a meeting and won't be home until eleven."

"That's much too late for me," Penny said quickly. "I'll see him in the morning. And I do hope you cooperate by giving him a dandy breakfast."

"Just see to it that you don't oversleep," suggested the housekeeper dryly.

Penny consumed an enormous supper and then slipped off to bed. She did not hear her father come home a few hours later. In the morning when Mrs. Weems called her, it seemed advisable to take a long time in dressing. Her father had gone by the time she strolled downstairs.

"Did you tell Dad?" she asked the housekeeper hopefully.

"You knew I would," chided Mrs. Weems. "Your father expects to see you at his office at nine o'clock."

"How'd he take the blow?"

"Naturally one couldn't expect him to be pleased."

With a deep sigh, Penny sat down to breakfast. Worry over the coming interview did not interfere with her usual excellent appetite. She had orange juice, two slices of toast, four pancakes, and then, somewhat concerned lest she lose her slim figure, debated whether to ask for another helping.

"The batter's all gone," Mrs. Weems settled the matter. "Do stop dawdling and get on to the office. Your father shouldn't be kept waiting."

With anything but enthusiasm, Penny took herself to the plant of the Riverview Star. Passing through the busy newsroom where reporters pounded at their typewriters, she entered her father's private office.

"Hello, Dad," she greeted him with forced cheerfulness. "Mrs. Weems said you wanted to see me."

"So you lost five tires last night?" the editor barked. Mr. Parker was a lean, keen-eyed man of early middle age, known throughout the state as a fearless newspaper man. At the moment, Penny decided that "fearful" would prove a more descriptive term.

"Well, Dad, it was this way—" she began meekly.

"Never mind a long-winded explanation," he interrupted, smiling. "It wasn't your fault—the car was stripped."

Penny wondered if she had heard correctly.

"Your tires weren't the only ones stolen yesterday," Mr. Parker resumed. "A half dozen other thefts were reported. In fact, I've known for several weeks that a professional gang of tire thieves has been operating in Riverview."

"Oh, Dad, you're a peach!" Penny cried, making a dive for him. "I'm going to give you a great big kiss!"

"You are not," Mr. Parker grinned, pushing her away. "Try to remember, this is an office."

Penny resigned herself to a chair. Questioned by her father, she gave a straightforward account of how the car had been stripped at the Yacht Club grounds.

"The tire gang is getting bolder every day!" Mr. Parker exclaimed wrathfully. "But we'll soon put a stop to their little game!"

"How, Dad?"

Mr. Parker hesitated and then said: "I can trust you, can't I, Penny?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll tell you this in confidence. For weeks Jerry Livingston, our star reporter, has been working on the case. He's rounded up a lot of evidence against the outfit."

"Then we have a chance to get those tires back!"

"I'm not thinking about that," Mr. Parker said impatiently. "Jerry's gathered enough evidence to smash the entire gang. It will be as big a story as the Star ever published."

"When are you breaking it, Dad?"

"Perhaps tomorrow. Depends on the state prosecutor."

"John Gilmore? What does he have to do with it?"

"This story is loaded with dynamite, Penny. If we spread it over our front page before police have a chance to act, the guilty parties are apt to make a getaway."

"That's so," nodded Penny.

"There's another reason I want to consult the Prosecutor before I use the story," Mr. Parker resumed. "Some of the men involved—"

A tap sounded on the door. Without completing what he had started to say, the editor called, "Come in."

Jerry Livingston entered the office. He was a good-looking young man, alert and clean-cut. Smiling at Penny, he slapped a folded paper on Mr. Parker's desk.

"Here's my story on the tire thefts, Chief," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, this winds up the case."

"You've done fine work, Jerry," Mr. Parker praised. "Thanks to your work, we ought to clean out the gang."

"I hope so, Chief. Guess you have all the proofs needed to back up the story."

"All the evidence is locked in my safe. I have an appointment scheduled with the Prosecutor. If he Okays the story, we'll publish it tomorrow. By the way, Jerry, what are your plans?"

"Well, I have a couple of weeks before I go into the Army Air Corps."

"Then treat yourself to a vacation, starting right now," said Mr. Parker. "Can you use it?"

"Can I?" grinned Jerry. "Know what I'll do? I'll hop the noon train and head for the Canadian wilds on a hunting trip."

Mr. Parker wrote out a check which he presented to the young man.

"We'll be sorry to lose you, Jerry," he said regretfully. "But remember, a job always will be waiting when you return."

The reporter shook hands with Mr. Parker and Penny, then left the office.

"We'll miss Jerry around here," the editor remarked.

Penny nodded. She and Jerry had shared many an adventure together, and he was one of her truest friends. The office would not seem the same without him.

"My appointment with the Prosecutor is at ten-thirty," said Mr. Parker briskly. "I'll gather my papers and be on my way."

The editor placed Jerry's signed story in a leather portfolio. Next he went to the safe and fumbled with the dial.

"Want me to open it for you?" Penny asked, after he had tried several times.

Without waiting for a reply, she stooped down, twisted the dial a few times, and opened the heavy door.

"Young lady, how did you learn the combination?" Mr. Parker demanded in chagrin.

"Oh, the numbers are written on the under side of your desk," Penny grinned. "Not a very good place either! You must trust your office help."

"Fortunately my reporters aren't quite as observing as a certain daughter," Mr. Parker retorted grimly.

The editor removed a fat brown envelope from one of the drawers of the safe. Glancing at the papers it contained, he added them to the contents of the portfolio. He then locked the safe.

"How about letting me see that story?" Penny asked.

Mr. Parker smiled but shook his head. "Only two persons know the facts of the case—Jerry and myself."

"Let's make it a trio."

"It will be after I've talked to the Prosecutor. I've got to step right along, too, or I'll be late."

"But Dad—"

"You'll read the story in tomorrow's Star—I hope," her father laughed. Picking up the portfolio, he started for the door. "Just contain your impatience until I get back. And please keep those slippery little fingers away from my safe!"