“I’m expecting Mr. Parker to walk in here any minute,” retorted DeWitt. “A ‘disappearance’ spread would make the Star look silly.”

“Mr. Parker’s not going to show up!” Schirr refuted, his eyes blazing. “I say we should play the story for all it’s worth.”

“I’m sure Dad would hate sensationalism,” Penny said, siding with Mr. DeWitt.

The assistant editor turned to glare at her. Although he made no reply, she read anger and dislike in his flashing eyes.

“Cut the story down,” DeWitt ordered curtly. “And try to find a more suitable picture of Mr. Parker.”

Schirr swept the dummy sheet from the desk, crumpling it in his hand. As he started for the morgue where pictures were filed, he muttered to himself.

“Don’t know what’s got into that fellow lately,” DeWitt sighed.

The editor sat down rather heavily and Penny noticed that he looked tired and pale. For fifteen years he had been closely associated with Mr. Parker, regarding his chief with deep affection.

“Do you feel well, Mr. DeWitt?” she inquired.

“Not so hot,” he admitted, reaching for a pencil. “Lately I’ve been having a little pain in my side—it’s nothing though. Just getting old, that’s all.”

“Why not take the day off, Mr. DeWitt? You’ve been working too hard.”

“Now wouldn’t this be a fine time to go home?” the editor barked. “Hard work agrees with me.”

Reminded that she was keeping Mr. DeWitt from his duties, Penny soon left the Star office. Debating a moment, she walked to the nearby police station. There she was courteously received by Chief Jalman, a personal friend of her father’s.

“We’ll find Mr. Parker,” he assured her confidently. “His description has been broadcast over the radio. We’ve instructed all our men to be on the watch for him.”

Penny broached the possibility that her father had been waylaid by enemies.

“Facts fail to support such a theory,” replied Chief Jalman. “It’s my opinion your father will show up any hour, wondering what the fuss is all about.”

Penny left the police station 

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