"No one seems to know for certain. According to rumor he plays the stock market heavily."

"It's strange he closed down the _Morning Press_," Penny remarked thoughtfully. "I always thought it was a profitable paper."

"So did everyone else. The _Press_ had a large circulation. But one bright Monday morning Judson posted a notice, closed the plant, and threw over a thousand employes out of work."

"That was nearly a year ago, wasn't it, Jerry?"

"Thirteen months to be exact. Why this sudden interest in Judson?"

"Oh, I don't know," Penny replied vaguely. "His case seems rather pathetic. Then, too, he reminds me of someone I've seen recently. I wish I could recall--"

Jerry glanced at the wall clock, swallowing his coffee with a gulp.

"Time to move along," he announced. "We mustn't keep your father waiting, Penny."

They left the cafe and Jerry hailed a pa.s.sing taxicab.

"It's only four blocks to the _Star_ building," protested Penny. "Aren't you being too lavish with your money, Jerry?"

"Oh, I'll add this item to my expense account," he laughed. "Jump in."

The taxi turned left at Adams street, rolling slowly through the downtown business section. Jerry peered from the car window at a large, four-story stone building which occupied a corner.

"That place sure looks like a morgue these days," he commented. "_The Morning Press._"

Penny and Louise likewise twisted sideways to stare at the dark, deserted building. Windows were plastered with disfiguring posters and the white stone blocks, once so beautiful, were streaked with city grime.

"When the _Press_ closed, machinery, furniture and everything else was left exactly as it stood," remarked Jerry. "Too bad an enterprising newspaper man doesn't take over the place before it's a complete loss.

The present owner doesn't even employ a watchman to protect the property."

"It does seem a shame--" Penny began, only to break off. "Why, that's funny!"

"What is?" inquired Jerry.

Penny had turned to glance back at the _Morning Press_ plant.

"The building isn't deserted!" she exclaimed. "There's a light in one of the upstairs rooms!"

CHAPTER 4 _A PROSPECTIVE TENANT_

Jerry rolled down the window beside him and, thrusting his head through it, glanced back at the _Morning Press_ building.

"Where do you see a light?" he demanded.

"It was on the third floor," declared Penny. "I can't see it myself now."

Jerry grinned as he settled back into his place between the two girls.

"You certainly get a kick out of playing jokes," he accused.

"But it wasn't a joke, Jerry. Honestly, I saw a light. Didn't you, Louise?"

"Sorry, but I didn't. I'm afraid your imagination works overtime, Pet."

"I know what I saw," insisted Penny.

As Jerry and Louise smiled, she lapsed into injured silence. However, she was certain she had not been mistaken. Distinctly she had observed a light on the third floor, a moving light which had been extinguished before her companions had noticed it.

The car presently drew up at the curb in front of the _Star_ building.

Anthony Parker, a newspaper tucked beneath his arm, stepped from the vestibule where he had been waiting. He was a tall, slender man, alert and courageous in following his convictions. Under his management the _Riverview Star_ had grown to be one of the most influential papers in the state.

"Hope we haven't kept you waiting, Mr. Parker," Jerry greeted him, swinging open the cab door.

"Only a minute or two. Thanks, Jerry, for bringing the girls from the boat. May we offer you a ride home?"

"No, thanks, Chief. I'll walk from here. Good evening."

Jerry tipped his hat politely to Penny and Louise as the cab drove away.

Mr. Parker asked the girls if they had enjoyed their trip aboard the _Goodtime_.

"The boat wasn't very well named, I'm afraid," answered Penny. "The trip proved to be rather terrible but we met some interesting people."

During the drive to the Sidell home, she and Louise talked as fast as they could, telling Mr. Parker about Tillie Fellows, the mysterious young woman who had dropped a bundle of clothing into the water, and particularly the man with the strange octopus tattoo.

"You'll have to tell the rest of it, Penny," laughed Louise as she bade her chum good-bye. "Thanks for bringing me home."

The cab rolled on, and Penny glanced questioningly at her father.

"What do you think of the tattoo story?" she asked hopefully. "Won't it make a dandy feature for the _Star_?"

"I regret to say it sounds like first-grade fiction."

"Why, Dad! Louise and Jerry will confirm everything I've said."

"Oh, I don't doubt your word, Penny. I am sure everything occurred as you report. Nevertheless, were we to use the story our readers might question its veracity."

"Don't crush me with such big words, Dad."

"Veracity means truth, Penny. Now your story is very interesting, but I think you may have placed your own interpretation upon certain facts."

"For instance?"

"Well, according to John Munn's statement, he fell from the bridge and was not pushed."

"But I saw it with my own two eyes, Dad."