“I’m merely waiting for him to return,” she answered briefly. “I came to find out what to do about the car.”
“Oh, yes, I heard that all of your tires were stolen last night.” Mr. Schirr’s lips twitched. “Too bad.”
“I may get them back again. Dad says—” Penny checked herself, remembering that the information given her by her father was to be kept secret.
“Yes?” encouraged the assistant editor.
“Perhaps police will catch the thieves,” she completed.
“I shouldn’t count on it if I were you, Miss Parker. Black Markets have flourished in this city for months. Nothing’s been done to stop it.”
“Just what do you mean by a Black Market, Mr. Schirr?”
“Illegal trading in various scarce commodities. Tires either stolen or hijacked, are sold by the crooks to so-called honest dealers who serve the public. It’s now a big-time business.”
“What does Dad think about it?”
“Well, now, I really couldn’t tell you. Your father doesn’t discuss his editorial policy with me. If he did, I’d warn him to lay off all those tire-theft stories.”