Rick laughed. "Be accurate. This old heap can't go ninety miles an hour. Besides, it's only my never-ending search for the truth that leads me to Seaford. I want to find out if the warning is true."
Scotty sighed. "Whoever it was that phoned should know you as I do. If we needed anything to sharpen the famous Brant nose for trouble, it was that phone call. I suppose now we'll spend all our waking hours commuting back and forth to Seaford."
"Not all," Rick corrected. "Some of the time we'll be in Seaford."
"Any idea who it was that phoned?"
"It could have been anyone. But I don't think it was Carrots Kelso. The voice was an older man's. Maybe it was his father, but I didn't hear enough of his voice to recognize it."
"Why should anyone worry about us looking into things?"
"Respect," Rick said, wincing as the car bounced across Salt Creek Bridge. "Respect for the genius of Spindrift's two leading detectives. Can't think of any other reason."
"Unless whatever is going on would be so obvious to anyone who took the trouble to investigate that the party concerned doesn't even want two simple-minded souls like us poking around."
"Such modesty," Rick clucked.
"Okay, Hawkshaw," Scotty said resignedly. "On to Seaford. We'll probably find the answer just as the villain lowers the boom on us."