Read Ebook: Ghost Beyond the Gate by Wirt Mildred A Mildred Augustine

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Ebook has 1568 lines and 44177 words, and 32 pages

"Yes?" encouraged the assistant editor.

"Perhaps police will catch the thieves," she completed.

"I shouldn't count on it if I were you, Miss Parker. Black Markets have flourished in this city for months. Nothing's been done to stop it."

"Just what do you mean by a Black Market, Mr. Schirr?"

"Illegal trading in various scarce commodities. Tires either stolen or hijacked, are sold by the crooks to so-called honest dealers who serve the public. It's now a big-time business."

"What does Dad think about it?"

"Well, now, I really couldn't tell you. Your father doesn't discuss his editorial policy with me. If he did, I'd warn him to lay off all those tire-theft stories."

Penny gazed quickly at the assistant editor, wondering how much he knew of her father's plan.

"Dad usually prints all the news," she said. "Why should he soft-pedal the tire stories?"

"For his health's sake."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Schirr."

The assistant editor had closed the door behind him. Warming to his subject, he replied: "The men who have muscled into the tire theft racket are ugly lads without scruples. If your father stupidly insists upon trying to smash the outfit, he may not wake up some morning."

The suggestion that her father might ruthlessly be done away with shocked Penny. And a canny corner of her mind demanded to know how Mr. Schirr could be so well informed. She was quite certain her father had not taken him into his confidence.

"Dad is no coward," she said proudly.

"Oh, no one ever questioned his bravery, Miss Parker. Your father is courageous to the point of rashness. But if he prints an expos? story about the tire theft gang, it's apt to prove the most foolish act of his life."

"How do you know he intends to do such a thing?"

The question, sharply put, surprised Mr. Schirr.

"Oh, I don't," he denied hastily. "I merely heard the rumor around the office."

Penny made no reply. As the silence became noticeable, the assistant editor murmured that he would return to see Mr. Parker later and left the office.

Penny glared at the man's retreating back. Even more intensely than before, she disliked Harley Schirr.

"The old sneak cat!" she thought. "I'll bet a cent he's been listening at the door or prying in Dad's papers! I'm sure no rumors have been circulating around the office."

The telephone rang. Automatically Penny took down the receiver.

"Mr. Parker?" inquired a masculine voice.

"He's not here now. This is his daughter speaking. May I take a message?"

"No message," said the purring voice. "Mr. Parker may hear from me later."

"Who is this, please?" asked Penny quickly.

There was no answer, only the click of a receiver being hung on its hook.

The incident, although trifling, annoyed Penny. Getting up from the desk, she walked to the window. Mr. Schirr's intimation had alarmed her, and now the telephone call added to her uneasiness.

"Probably the man who telephoned is well known to Dad," she tried to assure herself. "I'm just imagining that his voice sounded sinister."

Feeling the need of an occupation, Penny wandered out into the editorial room. She chatted with the society editor and for a time watched the world news reports coming in on the noisy teletype machines.

"Need a job?" inquired Editor DeWitt at the slot of the circular copy desk. "How about writing a few headlines for me?"

"No, thanks," Penny declined. "I'm just waiting for Dad. He should be back any minute now."

It was eleven-forty by the office clock. Never had time seemed to pass so slowly. As Penny debated whether or not to wait any longer, there was a sudden stir in the room. Glancing toward the outside door, she saw that Jerry Livingston, suitcase in hand, had entered.

Immediately reporters and editors left their desks to shake his hand.

"Jerry, you're the best reporter this paper ever had," Mr. DeWitt told him warmly. "We surely hate to see you go."

"Oh, I'll be back," the reporter answered. "You can bet on that!"

Penny crossed the room to say goodbye. Jerry surprisingly tucked her arm through his.

"Come along and see me off on the train," he invited, pulling her along. "Not doing anything special, are you?"

"Just waiting for Dad."

"Then come on," Jerry grinned. "I've got a lot to say to you."

However, once in the taxi, speeding toward the railroad station, the reporter scarcely spoke. He reached out and captured her hand.

"Now don't try to work on my sympathies," laughed Penny, though a lump came in her throat. "Oh, Jerry--"

"At your command. Just break down and confess how desolate you'll be without me."

The railroad station was close by and Penny had only a moment to talk.

"Riverview will be a blank without you," she admitted. "But it's that tire-theft story I want to ask you about. Did you ever tell anyone that Dad is planning to expose the gang?"

"Of course not!"

"I knew you wouldn't give out any information," Penny said in relief. "But somehow Harley Schirr has learned about it."

"Schirr! That egg? How could he have found out?"

"I'd like to know myself. He hinted that something dreadful might happen to Dad if the story is printed."

Jerry patted Penny's hand. "Don't give it a thought, kid," he said. "Schirr does a lot of wild talking. Probably whatever he said to you was pure bluff. He doesn't know a thing."

The arrival of the cab at the station put an end to the conversation. Jerry paid the driver and hustled Penny inside. He barely had time to purchase a ticket before the train was called.

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