“At Johnson’s warehouse.”
“Isn’t that along the river?”
“Yeah, about eight miles from here. The boys will be loading some tires there. If you’re willing to take the risk, you may learn something. Meeting’s at seven.”
Penny glanced at her wrist watch.
“It’s after six now!” she exclaimed in dismay. “Dad, if we are to get there in time, we’ve got to step!”
“Right you are,” he agreed.
Before leaving the garage, Mr. Parker telephoned Central Police Station. Without mentioning Sam’s name, he revealed a little of what he had learned and requested an immediate investigation of the Johnson Warehouse. Then, intending to meet officers there, he and Penny taxied along the winding river road.
Although not yet seven o’clock, it was darkening fast. The driver switched on headlights, illuminating a long stretch of icy pavement.
“Can’t you go faster?” Mr. Parker urged impatiently.
“Don’t dare, sir,” replied the driver.