you out to Pine Top alone, Penny. Or perhaps you might be able to induce your chum, Louise, to go along. Would you like that?”

“It would be more fun if you went also.”

“That’s out of the picture now. If everything goes well I might be able to join you for Christmas weekend.”

“I’m not sure Louise could go,” said Penny doubtfully. “But I can find out right away.”

After dinner that night, she lost no time in running over to the Sidell home. At first Louise was thrown into a state of ecstasy at the thought of making a trip to Pine Top and then her face became gloomy.

“I would love it, Penny! But it’s practically a waste of words to ask Mother. We’re going to my grandmother’s farm in Vermont for the holidays, and I’ll have to tag along.”

Since grade school days the two girls had been inseparable friends. Between them there was perfect understanding and they made an excellent pair, for Louise exerted a subduing effect upon the more impulsive, excitable Penny.

Inactivity bored Penny, and wherever she went she usually managed to start things moving. When nothing better offered, she tried her hand at writing newspaper stories for her father’s paper. Several of these reportorial experiences had satisfied even Penny’s deep craving for excitement.

Three truly “big” stories had rolled from her typewriter through the thundering presses of the Riverview Star: Tale of the Witch Doll, The Vanishing Houseboat, and Danger at the Drawbridge. Even now, months after her last astonishing adventure, friends liked to tease her about a humorous encounter with a certain Mr. Kippenberg’s alligator.

“Pine Top won’t be any fun without you, Lou,” Penny complained.

“Oh, yes it will,” contradicted her chum. “I know you’ll manage to stir up plenty of excitement. You’ll probably pull a mysterious Eskimo out of a snow bank or save Santa Claus from being kidnaped! That’s the way you operate.”

“Pine Top is an out of the way place, close to the Canadian border. All one can do there is eat, sleep, and ski.”

“You mean, that’s all one is supposed to do,” corrected Louise with a laugh. “But you’ll run into some big story or else you’re slipping!”

“There isn’t a newspaper within fifty miles. No railroad either. The only way in and out of the valley is by airplane, and bob-sled, of course.”

“That may cramp your style a little, but I doubt it,” declared Louise. “I do wish I could go along.”

The girls talked with Mrs. Sidell, but as they both had expected, it was not practical for Louise to make the trip.

“I’ll come to the airport to see you off on your plane,” Louise promised as Penny left the house. “You’re starting Thursday, aren’t you?”

“Yes, at ten-thirty unless there’s bad weather. But I’ll see you again before that.”

All the next day Penny packed furiously. Mr. Parker was unusually busy at the office, but he bought his daughter’s ticket and made all arrangements for the trip to Pine Top. Since Mrs. Weems also planned to leave Riverview the following day, the house was in a constant state of turmoil.

“I feel sorry for Dad being left here alone,” remarked Penny. “He’ll never make his bed, and he’ll probably exist on strong coffee and those wretched raw beef sandwiches they serve at the beanery across from the Star office.”

“I ought to give up my vacation,” declared Mrs. Weems. “It seems selfish of me not to stay here.”

Mr. Parker would not hear of such an arrangement, and so plans moved forward just as if his own trip had not been postponed.

“Dad, you’ll honestly try to come to Pine Top for Christmas?” Penny pleaded.

“I’ll do my best,” he promised soberly. “I have a hunch that Harvey Maxwell may still be in town, despite what we were told at the hotel. I intend to busy myself making a complete investigation of the man.”

“If I could help, I’d be tickled to stay, Dad.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Penny. Just go out there and have a nice vacation.”

Mr. Parker had not intended to go to the office Thursday morning until after Penny’s plane had departed, but at breakfast time a call came from DeWitt, the city editor, urging his presence at once. Before leaving, he gave his daughter her ticket and travelers checks.

“Now I expect to be at the airport to see you off,” he promised. “Until then, good-bye.”

Mr. Parker kissed Penny and hastened away. Later, Louise Sidell came to the house. Soon after ten o’clock the girls took leave of Mrs. Weems, taxiing to the airport.

“I don’t see Dad anywhere,” Penny remarked as the cabman unloaded her luggage. “He’ll probably come dashing up just as the plane takes off.”

The girls entered the waiting room and learned that the plane was “on time.” Curiously, they glanced at the other passengers. Two travelers Penny immediately tagged as business men. But she was rather interested in a plump, over-painted woman whose nervous manner suggested that she might be making her first airplane trip.

While Penny’s luggage was being weighed, two men entered the waiting room. One was a lean, sharp-faced individual suffering from a bad cold. The other, struck Penny as being vaguely familiar. He was a stout man, expensively dressed, and had a surly, condescending way of speaking to his companion.

“Who are those men?” Penny whispered to Louise. “Do you know them?”

Louise shook her head.

“That one fellow looks like someone I’ve seen,” Penny went on thoughtfully. “Maybe I saw his picture in a newspaper, but I can’t place him.”

The two men went up to the desk and the portly one addressed the clerk curtly:

“You have our reservations for Pine Top?”

“Yes, sir. Just sign your name here.” The clerk pushed forward paper and a pen.

Paying for the tickets from a large roll of greenbacks, the two men went over to the opposite side of the waiting room and sat down. Penny glanced anxiously at the clock. It was twenty minutes past ten.

A uniformed messenger boy entered the room, letting in a blast of cold air as he opened the door. He went over to the desk and the clerk pointed out the two girls.

“Now what?” said Penny in a low voice. “Maybe my trip is called off!”

The message was for her, from her father. But it was less serious than she had expected. Because an important story had “broken” it would be impossible for him to leave the office. He wished her a pleasant trip west and again promised he would bend every effort toward visiting Pine Top for Christmas.

Penny folded the message and slipped it into her purse.

“Dad won’t be able to see me off,” she explained to her chum. “I was afraid when DeWitt called him this morning he would be held up.”

Before Louise could reply the outside door opened once more, and a girl of perhaps twenty-two who walked with a long, masculine gait, came in out of the cold. Penny sat up a bit straighter in her chair.

“Do you see what I see?” she whispered.

“Who is she?” inquired Louise curiously.

“The one and only Francine Sellberg.”

“Which means nothing to me.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen her by-line in the Riverview Record! Francine would die of mortification.”

“Is she a reporter?”

“She covers special assignments. And she is pretty good,” Penny added honestly. “But not quite as good as she believes.”

“Wonder what she’s doing here?”

“I was asking myself that same question.”

As