He paid at the cash register and they went out into the night. Penny looked about for the two men and saw them walking toward the river.
“Hold on,” said Jerry as she started to follow. “Tell me what all the excitement is about.”
Tersely, Penny repeated the conversation she had overheard.
“They’re tough looking hombres all right,” Jerry admitted. “Likely as not mixed up in some dirty business. But to say they’re involved in the Kippenberg affair—”
“Oh, Jerry,” Penny broke in impatiently, “we’ll never learn anything if we take that attitude. We must run down every possible clue. Please, let’s see if they go down to the river.”
“We ought to be getting our story back to the office,” Jerry reminded her. “If we miss the last edition there will be fireworks.”
“It will only take a minute,” Penny insisted stubbornly. “If you won’t come with me, then I’m going alone!”
She started away and the reporter had no choice but to follow. A narrow, well-trod path led down a steep slope toward the river. Long before they came within sight of it they could hear the croak of bullfrogs and feel the damp, night mists enveloping them like a cloak.
Drawing closer to the two men, Penny and Jerry slackened pace and moved with greater care. But if they hoped to learn anything from the conversation of the pair ahead they were disappointed. The talk concerned only the weather.
Reaching the banks of the river, the two men boarded a sturdy cabin cruiser which had been moored to a sagging dock.