ced.

Susan and Penny secured chairs in the second row. When they looked
about for Amy Coulter they noticed that she was sitting at the rear of
the room, looking tense and worried.

"Miss Coulter was nice, wasn't she?" Susan whispered. "I hope her
entry wins."

"So do I. You can tell this contest means a lot to her."

When Hanley Cron was introduced to the audience he was greeted with a
mild round of applause in which Susan and Penny did not join. They
listened closely to his speech however, and were forced to acknowledge
that the man was a good public speaker. His manners before a crowd
could not be criticized for he was both pleasant and witty. He praised
in general terms all of the many fine entries in the contest, and
mentioned perfunctorily his regret that each contestant could not be
awarded the coveted prize.

Susan grew impatient. "Why doesn't he get to the point?" she fretted.

At length the man did. As he prepared to make the all important
announcement many leaned expectantly forward in their chairs. Susan
smiled confidently back at Amy.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hanley Cron intoned, "I take great pleasure in
awarding the five thousand dollar Huddleson prize to James Comberton
for his truly remarkable creation, 'Winged Night.'"

A little buzz of excitement and obvious disappointment greeted the
announcement. Susan and Penny were aghast. While they did not pretend
to be art critics, the statue which had been selected seemed to them
far inferior to the Black Imp. Apparently, many other persons shared
the same opinion.

As Hanley Cron, a trifle defiantly, went on to explain the various
points of merit which had caused him to select the prize winning
statue, some openly shook their heads in disagreement. There was a
great deal of whispering.

"Poor Amy!" Penny commented regretfully to her chum. "She was so
hopeful of winning."

"And she should have too!" Susan whispered indignantly. "I told you
Hanley Cron couldn't know anything about judging a statue. He's just a
noisy talker!"

Penny smiled, knowing that her chum's opinion was decidedly biased.
The girls were tactful enough not to turn and stare at Amy, but when it
was possible to look back without appearing to do so, they glanced
toward the seat in the rear row which the young sculptress had
occupied. It was empty.

"I guess she slipped away as soon as she heard the bad news," Penny
said regretfully. "The announcement must hav