"Do I?" DeWitt's face relaxed into a broad grin. "That was a real write-up. Say, maybe you could take over Miss Hilderman's job until we can replace her."

"Service is my motto." Penny eyed her father questioningly. "It might save the _Star_ from going to press minus a society page. How about it, Dad?"

"It certainly would solve our problem," contributed DeWitt. "Of course the undertaking might be too great a one for your daughter." He winked at Penny.

"She'll have no difficulty in taking over," said Mr. Parker stiffly.

"None whatsoever."

"Then I'll start her in at once," DeWitt replied. "Come with me, Miss Parker."

At the door Penny paused and discreetly allowed the city editor to get beyond hearing. Then, turning to her father she remarked innocently:

"Oh, by the way, we overlooked one trifling detail. The salary!"

The editor made a grimace. "I might have expected this. Very well, I'll pay you the same as I do Miss Hilderman. Twenty-five a week."

"Why, that would just take care of my debt to Jake Harriman," protested Penny. "I simply can't do high pressure work without high pay. Shall we make it fifty a week?"

"So you're holding me up?"

"Certainly not," chuckled Penny. "Merely using my ingenuity. Am I hired?"

"Yes, you win," answered Mr. Parker grimly. "But see to it that you turn out good work. Otherwise, you soon may find yourself on the _Star's_ inactive list."

CHAPTER 3 _SOCIETY ROUTINE_

Penny followed City Editor DeWitt to a small, gla.s.s-enclosed office along the left hand wall of the newsroom. Miss Hilderman's desk was cluttered with sheets of copy paper which bore scribbled notations, items telephoned to the _Star_ but not yet type-written.

"There should be a date book around here somewhere," DeWitt remarked.

Finally he found it in one of the desk drawers. Penny drew a deep breath as she scanned the long list of social events which must be covered for the Sunday page.

"Do the best you can," DeWitt said encouragingly. "Work fast, but be careful of names."

The telephone bell rang. As Penny reached for the receiver, DeWitt retreated to his own domain.

"h.e.l.lo, Miss Hilderman?" a feminine voice cooed, "I wish to report a meeting, please."

"Miss Hilderman isn't here this afternoon," replied Penny politely. "I will take the item."

Gathering up paper and pencil, she slid into the revolving chair behind the telephone, poised for action.

"Yes," she urged, "I am ready."

There was a lengthy pause, and then the woman at the other end of the line recited as if she were reading from a paper:

"'A meeting of the Mystical Society of Celestial Thought, Order of Amar, 67, will be held Tuesday night at eight o'clock in the Temple, 426 b.u.t.ternut Lane. The public is cordially invited.'"

"What sort of society is the Order of Amar?" Penny inquired curiously, taking notes. "I never heard of it before."

"Why, my dear, the society is very well known," the woman replied. "We hold our meetings regularly, communing with the spirits. I do hope that the item appears in print. So often Miss Hilderman has been careless about it."

"I'll see that the item is printed under club notices," Penny promised.

"Your name, please?"

The woman had hung up the receiver, so with a shrug, Penny typed the item and speared it on a wire spindle. For the next hour she was kept busy with other telephone calls and the more important stories which had to be rushed through. Copy flowed steadily from her office by way of the pneumatic tube to the composing room.

Shortly after five o'clock, DeWitt dropped in for a moment to praise her for her speed and accuracy.

"You're doing all right," he said. "So far I've only caught you in one mistake. Mignonette is spelled with a double t."

"This job wouldn't be half bad if only brides could learn to carry flowers with easy names," laughed Penny. "When I get married I'll have violets and sweet peas!"

DeWitt reached for the copy on the spindle. "What's this?" he asked.

"More to go?"

"Club notices."

The editor tore the sheet from the wire, reading it as he walked toward the door. Abruptly, he paused and turned toward her.

"Miss Parker, this can't go through."

"Why, what is wrong?" Penny asked in surprise. "Have I made another error in spelling?"

DeWitt tore off the lead item and tossed it on her desk.

"It's this meeting of the so-called Mystical Society of Celestial Thought. The _Star_ never runs stuff like that, not even as a paid advertis.e.m.e.nt."

"I thought it was a regular lodge meeting, Mr. DeWitt."

"Nothing of the sort. Merely a free advertis.e.m.e.nt for a group of mediums and charlatans."

"Oh, I didn't know," murmured Penny.

"These meetings have only one purpose," Mr. DeWitt resumed. "To lure victims who later may be fleeced of their money."

"But if that is so, why don't police close up the place?" Penny demanded.

"Why doesn't the _Star_ run an expose story?"

"Because evidence isn't easy to get. The meetings usually are well within the law. Whenever a police detective or a reporter attends, the services are decorous. But they provide the mediums with a list of suckers."

Penny would have asked DeWitt for additional information had not the city editor walked hurriedly away. Scrambling the item into a ball, she tossed it into the waste paper basket. Then upon second thought she retrieved it and carefully smoothed the paper.

"Perhaps, I'll drop around at the Temple sometime just to see what it is like," she decided, placing the item in her pocket. "It would be interesting to learn what is going on there."