"If you're actually right," Salt said unmoved, "I'd like to have snapped a picture of it. You know, this story might develop into something big."

"I have a feeling it will, Salt."

"If Atherwald really has disappeared it should create a sensation!"

"And if the poor fellow had the misfortune to fall or be pushed into the lily pool Dad wouldn't have headlines large enough to carry it!"

"Say, get a grip on yourself," Salt advised. "The _Riverview Star_ prints fact, not fancy."

"That's because so many of Dad's reporters are stodgy old fellows,"

laughed Penny. "But I'll admit it isn't very likely Grant Atherwald was devoured by the alligator."

The car had reached Corbin. Salt drew up in front of a drug store.

"Run in and telephone DeWitt," he said, opening the door for her. "And remember, stick to facts."

Penny was a little frightened as she entered the telephone booth and placed a long distance call to the _Riverview Star_. She never failed to feel nervous when she talked with DeWitt, the city editor, for he was not a very pleasant individual.

She jumped as the receiver was taken down and a voice barked: "City desk."

"This is Penny Parker over at Corbin," she began weakly.

"Can't hear you," snapped DeWitt. "Talk up."

Penny repeated her name and DeWitt's voice lost some of its edge.

Gathering courage, she started to tell him what she had learned at the Kippenberg estate.

"Hold it," interrupted DeWitt. "I'll switch you over to a rewrite man."

The connection was made and Penny began a second time. Now and then the rewrite man broke into the narrative to ask a question.

"All right, I think I have it all," he said finally and hung up.

Penny went back to the car looking as crestfallen as she felt.

"I don't know what they thought of the story," she told Salt. "DeWitt certainly didn't waste any words of praise."

"He never does," chuckled the photographer. "You're lucky if you don't get fired."

"That's one consolation," returned Penny, settling herself for the long ride home. "He can't fire me. Being the editor's daughter has its advantages."

The regular night edition of the _Riverview Star_ was on the street by the time they reached the city. Salt signaled a newsboy and bought a paper while the car waited for a traffic light. He tossed it over to Penny.

"Here it is! My story!" she cried, and then her face fell.

"What's the matter?" asked Salt. "Did they garble it all up?"

"They've cut it down to three inches! And not a word about the alligator or the lost wedding ring! I could cry! Why, I told that rewrite man enough to fill at least a column!"

"Well, anyway you made the front page," the photographer consoled. "They may build the story up in the next edition after they get my pictures."

Penny said nothing, remaining in deep gloom during the remainder of the ride to the _Star_ office. Salt let her out at the front door. She debated for a moment whether or not to go on home, but finally entered the building.

DeWitt was busy at his desk as she walked stiffly past. She hoped that he would notice how she ignored him, but he did not glance up from the copy before him.

Penny opened the door of her father's private office and stopped short.

"Why, Dad?" she cried. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home in bed."

"I finally persuaded the doctor to let me out," Anthony Parker replied, swinging around in his swivel chair. "How did you get along with your a.s.signment?"

"I thought I did very well," Penny said aloofly. "But from now on I'll not telephone anything in. I'll write the story myself."

"Now don't blame DeWitt or the rewrite man," said Mr. Parker, smiling. "A paper has to be careful in what it publishes, especially about a wedding.

Alligators are a bit too--shall we say sensational?"

"You made a similar remark about witch dolls," Penny reminded him.

"I did eat my words that time," Mr. Parker admitted, "but this is different. If we build up a big story about Grant Atherwald's disappearance, and then tomorrow he shows up at his own home, we'll appear pretty ridiculous."

"I guess you're right," Penny said, turning away. "Well, I'm happy to see you back in the office again."

Mr. Parker watched her speculatively. When she reached the door he inquired: "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What, Dad?"

"Today is Thursday." The editor took a sealed envelope from the desk drawer. "This is the first time you have failed to collect your allowance in over a year."

"I must be slipping." Penny grinned as she pocketed the envelope.

"Why don't you open it?"

"What's the use?" Penny asked gloomily. "It's always the same. Anyway, I borrowed two dollars last week so this doesn't really belong to me."

"You might be pleasantly surprised."

Penny stared at her father with disbelief. "Dad! You don't mean you've given me a raise!"

Eagerly, she ripped open the envelope. Three crisp dollar bills fluttered into her hand. With a shriek of delight, Penny flung her arms about her father's neck.

"I always try to reward a good reporter," he chuckled. "Now take yourself off because my work is stacked a mile high."

Penny tripped gaily toward the door but it opened before she could cross the room. An office boy came in with a message for Mr. Parker.

"Man to see you named Atherwald," he announced.

The name produced an electrifying effect upon both Penny and her father.