Part 51: Penelope has to muck out the horses…

They always need people over at The Stables to muck out the horses

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“My parents are dead," said Penelope, "and I’ve lost track of their family--I was born in Chipwick--father died when I was six. There might be some cousins or some former neighbours, but I don’t know. Probably impossible to find out.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to let it go, old girl.” Styles pressed the buzzer for his secretary and when she arrived bid her gently: “Show Penelope out, please.”

From the door, Penelope desperately tried to add: “You will find my car sunk—“

The door had closed behind her. Styles had not listened. He gave orders that never, for any reason, were they to admit Penelope to his office again. He telephoned Chief Inspector Dobbs and informed him that Penelope had now gone crazy and that he would save trouble by refusing to receive her.

Penelope did not try to see them. Instead, she went directly to the county jail, where she entered the main office and said quietly to a stout warden there: “I have stolen a load of money, but I can’t prove it. Will you please lock me up?”

The warden glared at her and shouted cruelly: “Get out of here! You tramps always find some foolish excuse when you want a good warm lodging for the winter! Why don’t you get some honest work, like the rest of us?”

“Where? Who would employ a sinner such as me?”

“They always need people over at The Stables to muck out the horses. Now get out of my sight and take that stink with you.”

“Yes, sir,” said Penelope, backing slowly towards the door, her head sunk. “Thank you.”
 
To be continued… 

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