Chapter VIII: A Revealing Clue

For the next few days Penny saw very little of her father. He left the house early in the morning and often did not return at night until after she had retired. Meals became something of an ordeal, for either Mr. Nichols buried himself in a newspaper or allowed the conversation to lapse.

"You're as talkative as the sphinx!" Penny accused. "Is the case going badly?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Is it going well then?"

"Not especially."

"Have you found any clue as to the whereabouts of Rap Molberg?"

"Not yet."

"You're impossible!" Penny cried furiously. "It's no use trying to learn a thing from you unless you're in exactly the right mood!"

In desperation she sought solace in the companionship of her chum, Susan. They attended a great many moving picture shows and developed an enviable tan by swimming outdoors and playing tennis for hours at a time.

Although Penny was permitted complete freedom, Mr. Nichols had warned her to use caution whenever she left the house at night. On more than one occasion in going downtown or to the home of a friend, she half suspected that she was being followed.

She refrained from mentioning her fear to Mr. Nichols lest he curtail her freedom. But she became more alert and watchful.

One afternoon while Penny was mowing the yard, Susan drove up in her coupe. It was the first time she had used it since the unfortunate night of the theft. She hailed Penny joyously.

"The old bus is traveling again! It has a new generator and a fine new wheel!"

Penny inspected the new purchases.

"See anything wrong with the wheel?" Susan demanded.

"Not a thing. Why?"

"I bought it for about half the regular price. I was a little afraid I might have been gipped."

Penny examined the spare wheel more critically. "It looks exactly like the one Dad bought me some time ago for nine ninety-eight. In fact, I'd think it was the same tire--the one that was stolen from me--if I didn't know better."

"I only paid four dollars," Susan informed proudly. "Wasn't it a bargain?"

"It looks like it. Where did you buy the tire?"

"Oh, at a little place on South Lake Street. I don't remember the name."

"South Lake isn't such a good location," Penny said thoughtfully, "I've heard Father say that a great many disreputable firms operate there. I know once he traced stolen furniture to a dealer on that street."

"I hope I didn't buy a stolen wheel," Susan declared. "Was that what you had in mind, Penny?"

"I thought of it right off. But I haven't any reason for saying it. For all I know, your tire may be a legitimate bargain."

"I wish there was some way of finding out for certain," Susan said anxiously.

"Let's look for the serial number. The wheel should have one."

Penny moved closer to inspect the new purchase.

"The number is here all right," she acknowledged.

"Then the tire wasn't stolen," Susan said in relief.

Penny shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that, Sue. It looks to me as if these numbers have been changed. Wait a minute!"

She darted into the house, returning with her father's magnifying glass. Using it to study the figures upon the wheel, the girls could plainly see that the numbers had been altered.

"To think I'd buy a stolen wheel!" Susan exclaimed indignantly. "I'm going right back and tell that dealer a thing or two!"

"You can't very well do that. We would be in no position to prove anything."

"I suppose you're right," Susan admitted.

"I'd like to see the establishment where you bought the tire," Penny said after a moment's pause. "Could you point it out to me?"

"Yes, I'll take you there now if you like."

Penny rolled the lawn mower into the garage and climbed into the coupe beside her chum.

"How do you like your car by this time?" she inquired as they drove toward South Lake Street.

"Not so well. It starts hard and has a funny sound in the engine. In a few days I mean to take it back to the Brunner garage for a complete overhaul."

South Lake Street was located in the poorer section of Belton City. The neighborhood was noted for its second-hand stores and it was said that sooner or later stolen merchandise found its way into the crowded little shops which lined the narrow thoroughfare. Often wares were piled upon the sidewalks to attract an unwary buyer. Stoves, cheap tables, and all manner of hardware rubbed elbows with clever brass jugs, imported vases and Oriental rugs.

Presently, Susan halted her car in front of a tire shop which was located at the outskirts of "second hand" row.

"This is the place," she announced.

The owner of the shop, a short, squat little man with beady black eyes, stood at the window. He eyed the girls sharply.

"Shall we go in?" Susan asked.

"Let's, but we mustn't act as if we suspect anything."

Assuming a casual attitude, they sauntered into the shop. The dealer recognized Susan instantly. On her first visit he had been a trifle too cordial, but now he regarded her shrewdly.

"Something?" he inquired.

"My friend wishes to buy a new wheel," Susan informed. "She'd like to see one like I bought yesterday."

Again the dealer cast a sharp glance at Penny.

"Haven't I seen you in here before?" he asked.

Penny shook her head. "No, this is the first time I ever came into your store."

"I've seen you somewhere," the man muttered. "Now, I know! You're Christopher Nichols' daughter!" He pronounced the name of the detective with a slight sneer.

"Yes, I am," Penny acknowledged reluctantly. "But I'm sure I've never seen you before."

"That's quite likely."

"Then how did you know me?"

"That's my business," the dealer retorted shortly. "I am sorry, but I can't do business with you. Good day."

Penny stood her ground.

"Haven't you any tires for sale?"

"Not for you, I haven't. You're a snooper just like your father! Get out of here!"

Penny would have carried the argument further, but Susan tugged at her sleeve. They hastily left the shop. As they drove away, they saw the dealer standing at the plate glass window, watching.

"Such a horrible man!" Susan gasped. "I was actually afraid of him. What made him act like that?"

"I think he must have guessed why we came," Penny told her. "As a sleuth I seem to be a walking advertisement of my calling!"

"He recognized you the minute you stepped into the store. Didn't that strike you as queer?"

"Yes, it did, Susan. I'm almost certain that man is dealing in stolen tires. He's probably afraid of the law. It's to his advantage to recognize plain clothesmen and persons who might cause him trouble, I imagine I've been seen with my father."

"I should think the police could arrest him."

"It isn't as easy as one might believe, Susan. If a fence is caught with stolen merchandise he claims to have purchased it in good faith. Actually he has taken it off the hands of some thief. An arrest is hard to make."

"Then there's nothing we can do?"

"I don't know. I'll ask Father when he comes home tonight."

"I think a fence is even more contemptible than a thief," Susan said scornfully. "I'd give anything if I hadn't bought that tire."

"I'm glad you did," Penny smiled, "for the clue we gained may prove useful to Father."

The girls were relieved when they reached the end of South Lake and turned into a more pleasant street. Driving toward their homes they relapsed into a long silence, each absorbed in her own thoughts. There were occasions when the two friends talked frantically for hours. There were other times when they would speak scarcely a word, yet enjoy perfect understanding.

Penny had slumped in her seat. Suddenly, she straightened, her eyes riveted upon a pedestrian who was crossing the street in front of the coupe.

"Susan, isn't that Jerry Barrows?" she demanded excitedly.

The car swerved wildly as Susan turned to look.

"It is!" she exclaimed.

"Stop the car," Penny pleaded. "I want to talk with him."

Susan brought the coupe to a halt at the curbing. Penny sprang out.

"Jerry Barrows!" she called.

The boy wheeled and saw her. He hesitated an instant, then turned and ran.