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Read Ebook: Women's Wages by Smart William
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Ebook has 1384 lines and 43850 words, and 28 pages
"Would you consider her a woman of means?"
"Judging from the car--yes."
Penny asked many more questions, trying to gain an accurate picture of the woman who had aided her father. She was somewhat reassured when the candy shop owner insisted that Mr. Parker had entered the car of his own free will.
"Did he seem dazed by the accident?" she asked thoughtfully.
"Well, yes, he did. I saw your father get into the car sort of holding his head. Then he asked the woman to stop at the curb."
"Why was that?"
"He'd forgotten something--a leather carrying case. At any rate, he returned to his own auto for it. Then he drove away with the woman."
As puzzled as ever, Penny went out on the street once more. The weather had turned colder, but she scarcely felt the icy blast which whipped her face.
It was silly to worry, she told herself sternly. Why, all the facts supported Police Chief Jalman's belief that her father soon would return home. Mrs. Weems was confident he would be found safe--so was Mr. DeWitt. After all, only five hours had elapsed since the accident. A disappearance couldn't be considered serious in such a short period.
But try as she might, Penny could not free her mind of grave misgivings. She could not forget the mysterious telephone call, the threatening letter, and Harley Schirr's cocksure opinion that her father would not be found.
She stood disconsolate, gazing into the whirling snow storm. At the end of the street the railroad station loomed as a dark blur, reminding her of Jerry. If only he hadn't gone away! Jerry was the one person who might help her, and she knew of no way to reach him.
Penny bought a copy, reading with displeasure the story of Mr. Parker's disappearance.
"I can't understand why Mr. DeWitt let this go through," she thought. "If Dad were here, he'd certainly hate it."
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Penny," the man apologized. "I'm not much good at operating this contraption."
"Where is Mose this morning, Charley?"
"Fired."
"It's a shame, if you ask me," the janitor added.
"What happened, Charley? Who discharged him?"
"That guy Schirr."
"Harley Schirr? But he has no authority."
"An editor can fire and hire. I think he was just tryin' out his stuff on poor old Mose."
"During my father's absence, Mr. DeWitt is in full charge here," Penny said emphatically.
The news stunned Penny. She murmured that she hoped Mr. DeWitt was doing well.
"Reckon he is," agreed the janitor. "We all chipped in and sent him some flowers--roses. Mose gave fifty cents, too."
Penny's mind came back to the problem of the colored man.
"So Mr. Schirr discharged him," she commented. "I wonder why?"
The janitor pressed a button and the cage moved slowly upward.
"Mose was due on at midnight," he explained. "He didn't get here until after two o'clock."
"Didn't he have a reason for being so late?"
The cage stopped with a jerk. "Sure, Mose had a pip this time! Something about being detained by a ghost! Schirr didn't go for it at all. Swelled up like a poisoned pup and fired Mose on the spot."
"I'm sorry," Penny replied. "Dad liked Mose a lot."
"Any news from your father?"
Penny shook her head. As far as possible she was determined to keep her troubles to herself. Turning to leave the cage, she inquired:
"Where is Mose now? At home?"
"He's down in the boiler room, sittin' by the furnace. Says he's afraid to go home for fear his old lady will give him the works."
"Will you please ask Mose to wait there for me?" Penny requested. "I want to talk to him before he leaves the building."
"I'll be glad to tell him," the janitor said. Hesitating, he added: "If you've got any influence with Schirr, you might speak a good word for me."
"Why for you?" smiled Penny. "Surely your job is safe."
"I don't know about that," the janitor responded gloomily. "This morning when Schirr was comin' up in the elevator he said to me: 'Charley, there's going to be a few changes made around here. I'm going to cut out all the old, useless timber.' He looked at me kinda funny-like too. You know, I passed my sixty-eighth birthday last August."
"Now don't start worrying, Charley," Penny cheered him. "We couldn't run this building without you."
Deeply troubled, she tramped down the hall to the newsroom. Reporters were in a fever of activity, pounding out their stories. Copy boys had a nervous, tense expression as they ran to and fro on their errands. Harley Schirr, however, was not in evidence.
"The Big Shot has sealed himself in your father's office!" informed one of the copy desk men in a muted voice. "Guess you heard about DeWitt?"
Penny nodded.
"The Great Genius has taken over, and how! This place is operating on an efficiency-plus basis now. Why, he's got me so cockeyed, I compose poetry."
Penny crossed to her father's office, tapping on the frosted glass door.
"Who is it?" demanded Schirr, his voice loud and unpleasant.
Penny spoke her name. In a moment the door opened, and the editor bowed and smiled. As if she were a guest of honor, he motioned her to a seat.
"We're doing everything we can to trace your father," he said. "So far, we've had no luck and the police admit they are baffled. I can't express to you how sorry I am."
To Penny's ears the words were words only, lacking sincerity. Determining to waste no time, she spoke of DeWitt's sudden illness.
"Oh yes, he'll be off duty for at least a month," replied Mr. Schirr. "Naturally in his absence I have assumed charge. We put out a real paper this morning."
"I saw the front page."
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