"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.