"Trouble with the old allowance again?" Jerry asked sympathetically.

"You don't know the half of it. I'm submerged so deeply in debt that I'll be an old lady before I get out, unless Dad comes to my rescue."

"Well, good luck," chuckled Jerry. "You'll need it!"

Walking through the newsroom, between aisles of desks where busy reporters tapped on their typewriters, Penny paused before a door marked: _Anthony Parker, Editor_.

Listening a moment and hearing no voices within, she knocked and entered.

Her father, a lean, dignified man with tired lines about his eyes and mouth, sat working at his desk. He smiled as he saw his daughter, and waved her toward a chair.

Instead, Penny perched herself on a corner of the desk.

"Dad, I have a splendid surprise for you," she began brightly. "I've just accomplished a wonderful stroke of business!"

"Never mind beating about the bush," interrupted Mr. Parker. "Shoot me the facts straight. What have you done this time?"

"Dad, your tone! I've bought back my old car, Leaping Lena. And it only cost me a trifling sum."

Mr. Parker's chair squeaked as he whirled around.

"You've done _what_?"

"It's a long story, Dad. Now don't think that I fail to appreciate the grand new car you gave me last winter. I love it. But between Lena and me there exists a deep bond of affection. Today when I saw her on Jake Harriman's lot looking so weather-beaten and unhappy--why, a little voice inside me whispered: 'Penny, why don't you buy her back?' So I did."

"Never mind the sentimental touches. When I gave you the new car I thought we were well rid of Lena. How much did you pay for it?"

"Oh, Lena was a marvelous bargain. Five dollars cash and a note for twenty more. The man said you could pay for it at your convenience."

"Very considerate of him," Mr. Parker remarked ironically. "Now that we have three cars, and a double garage, where do you propose to keep Lena?"

"Oh, anywhere. In the back yard."

"Not on the lawn, young lady. And what do you plan to do with two cars?"

"The maroon one for style, and Lena when I want a good time. Why, Dad, she bears the autographs of nearly all my school friends! I should keep her as a souvenir, if for no other reason."

"Penny, it's high time you learned a few lessons in finance." Mr. Parker spoke sternly although his mouth twitched slightly. "I regret that I cannot a.s.sume your debts."

"But Dad! I'm a minor--under legal age. Isn't it a law that a father has to support his child?"

"A child, but not two cars. If you decide to take the case to court, I think any reasonable judge will understand my viewpoint. I repeat, the debt is yours, not mine."

"How will I pay?" asked Penny gloomily. "I've already borrowed on my allowance for a month ahead."

"I know," said her father. "However, with your ingenuity I am sure you can manage."

Penny drew a deep breath. Argument, she realized, would be utterly useless. While her father might be mildly amused by her predicament, he never would change his decision.

"Since you won't pay for Lena, I suppose it's useless to mention Mr.

Kohl's fender," she said despairingly.

"Does he have one?"

"Please don't try to be funny, Dad. This is tragic. While I was towing Lena, the rope broke and smash went the fender of Mr. Kohl's slinky black limousine."

"Interesting."

"I had to promise to pay for it to keep from being arrested. Oh, yes, and before that I acquired this little thing."

Penny tossed the yellow card across the desk.

"A parking ticket! Penny, how many times--" Mr. Parker checked himself, finishing in a calm voice: "This, too, is your debt. It may cost you five dollars."

"Dad, you know I can't pay. Think how your reputation will be tarnished if I am sent to jail."

Mr. Parker smiled and reached as if to take money from his pocket.

Reconsidering, he shook his head.

"I know the warden well," he said. "I'll arrange for you to be a.s.signed to one of the better cells."

"Is there nothing which will move you to generosity?" pleaded Penny.

"Nothing."

Retrieving the parking ticket, Penny jammed it into her pocket. Before she could leave there came a rap on the door. In response to Mr. Parker's "Come in," Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, entered.

"Sorry to bother you, Chief."

"What's wrong now, DeWitt?" the publisher inquired.

"Miss Hilderman was taken sick a few minutes ago. We had to send her home in a cab."

"It's nothing serious I hope," said Mr. Parker with concern.

"A mild heart attack. She'll be out a week, if not longer."

"I see. Be sure to have the treasurer give her full pay. You have someone to take her place?"

"That's the problem," moaned DeWitt. "Her a.s.sistant is on vacation. I don't know where we can get a trained society editor on short notice."

"Well, do the best you can."

DeWitt lingered, fingering a paper weight.

"The society page for the Sunday paper is only half finished," he explained. "Deadline's in less than an hour. Not a chance we can pick up anyone in time to meet it."

Penny spoke unexpectedly. "Mr. DeWitt, perhaps I can help you. I'm a whiz when it comes to writing society. Remember the Kippenberg wedding I covered?"