Muttering something, the stranger turned and slouched off in the rain.
“Queer duck,” Brad commented as he and Dan started to cross the flooded street. “What did he mumble?”
“I’m not sure I caught it right. I thought he said: ‘A fine thing!’”
“Must be a screwball, Dan. Somehow I didn’t like his appearance.”
“Same here. His eyes were so intent they gave me the creeps. Wonder why he was interested in the church anyhow?”
“Oh, idle curiosity, I suppose. You didn’t know him?”
“Never clapped eyes on him before,” Dan replied, leaping over a river of gutter flow. “He must be new in Webster City.”
The boys had reached the vestibule of the church.
Brad pulled open the heavy double doors and they went in out of the rain. Shaking out their slickers, they hung them up before entering the main part of the church.
The room smelled of fresh paint and seemed rather cold. Lights were on, however.