She pushed her father's heavy desk across the room, placing it in front of the door.

Fenestra rattled the handle several times, and threw his body against the panel once or twice. Then she heard footsteps as he walked away.

"That's only a trick to get me to come out," thought Penny. "I won't be stupid enough to fall into his trap. I'll stay right here."

Walking to the window, she gazed down. Cars were pa.s.sing along the street. If she shouted for help someone might hear her. However, to explain her predicament would be rather awkward.

Penny's gaze fell upon the telephone which had fallen from the desk to the floor. Picking it up, she dialed the number of her own house. Mrs.

Weems answered.

"h.e.l.lo," said Penny cheerfully, "Dad hasn't come home yet by any chance?"

"He's just now driving into the garage," the housekeeper replied. "I'll call him."

A moment later Penny heard her father's voice at the other end of the wire.

"Dad," she said, "I'm down at your office, sitting behind some barbed wire entanglements. I wish you'd get a policeman and see what you can do about rescuing me."

"Is this one of your jokes?" Mr. Parker demanded.

Fearful that her father would hang up the receiver, Penny talked fast and to the point. Mr. Parker a.s.sured her he would come without a moment's delay.

"I guess that will teach Peter Fenestra not to get funny with me!" she congratulated herself. "It pays to do a little thinking. Fenestra will be arrested, and then I'll drive out and learn what he hides in his cave."

Penny sniffed the air. She could smell smoke, and she thought it must be coming from a cigarette. Evidently Fenestra had stolen to the door and was patiently waiting for her to emerge.

"He'll have a long wait," she chuckled.

Gradually her elation died. The odor of smoke had grown stronger. She saw a wisp of it filter beneath the door crack. Penny's heart caught in her throat. Tensely she listened. Was it imagination or could she hear the crackle of flames?

"Fenestra may be burning the papers of a sc.r.a.p basket just to smoke me out," she thought. "Probably that's just what he's doing."

Pulling the heavy desk away from the door, she stood with her ear against the panel. Distinctly she could hear the crackle of flames. The wood felt warm to her cheek.

Suddenly Penny was afraid. Frantically she turned the key in the lock.

The door swung outward to the pressure of her shoulder. A wave of heat rushed in.

Penny staggered backward, horrified by the sight which met her eyes. At the end of the newsroom, where the exit should have been, rose a towering barrier of flames.

CHAPTER 24 _A BARRIER OF FLAMES_

Escape through the newsroom was cut off. Panic seized Penny, but only for an instant. Retreating, she telephoned the fire department. Then finding a chemical extinguisher, she began fighting the flames.

Black, rolling smoke billowed into her face, choking and blinding her.

The heat drove her back.

From far down the street came the wail of a siren. Penny rushed to a window. A pumper and a hook-and-ladder truck swung around the corner, lurching to a stop.

Raising the sash, she stepped out onto the ledge, waving to the men below.

"Stay where you are!" shouted a fireman. "We'll get you!"

A ladder shot up, but Penny did not wait to be carried to safety. Before a fireman could mount, she scrambled down with the agility of a monkey.

"The fire started in the newsroom," she gasped. "But it's already spread into the composing department."

"Anyone else in the building?"

"I don't think so. There were three scrub women, but they're probably out now."

Lines of hose were stretched to the hydrants, and streams of water began to play on the flames. A crowd, following in the wake of the fire engines, was ordered back by the police. One young man broke through, darting to Penny's side.

"Jerry!" she exclaimed.

"Gosh, how did it start?" he demanded. "Why, Penny, your hair is singed!"

"I was in it," she said briefly. "I can't explain now, but the fire was started by Peter Fenestra."

"On purpose?"

"I don't know about that. He was smoking a cigarette."

"Have you told the police?"

"Not yet. I'm waiting for Dad."

A car inched through the crowd, stopping a few yards away. Mr. Parker leaped out and ran toward the burning building. He was stopped at the entrance by a fireman.

"Let me in there!" the publisher shouted, trying to free himself. "My daughter's inside!"

"No, here I am, Dad!" Penny cried, grasping his hand.

Mr. Parker said no word, but he pulled her to him in a rough embrace. The next moment he was trying once more to enter the building, intending to save important papers.

"Take it easy, Parker," advised the fireman, barring the door with his hose. "The smoke's bad in there."

"Will the building go?"

"We'll save most of it," the fireman a.s.sured him confidently.

Penny plucked at her father's sleeve. "Dad, oughtn't the police be sent after Peter Fenestra? He's responsible for this, and a lot of other things, too!"

"You mean Fenestra set the fire?"