“I’ll tell you nothing, Miss! If anything is given out to the papers it will have to come from Mrs. Kippenberg.”
“Fair enough,” Salt acknowledged. He glanced curiously down the path which had been blocked off. “What’s down there?”
“Nothing.” The gardener spoke irritably. “This part of the estate hasn’t been fixed up. That’s why it’s closed.”
Penny had bent down, pretending to examine a shrub at the edge of the path.
“What is the name of this bush?” she inquired casually.
“An azalea,” the gardener replied after a slight hesitation. “Now get out of here, will you? I have my work to do.”
“Oh, all right,” Salt rejoined as he and Penny moved away. “No need to get so tough.”
They stepped over the barrier wire and retraced their way toward the house. Several times Penny glanced back but she could not see the old man. He had slipped away somewhere among the trees.
“I don’t believe that fellow was a gardener,” she said suddenly.
“What makes you think not?”