“I’m not going to make an excuse,” said Penny. “I’ll just come right out and ask her if she sells tires without a special order.”
The girls entered the warm little office, stamping snow from their galoshes.
“Just a minute,” called a voice which belonged to Mattie Williams.
The garage owner was busy with a customer. Soon however, she came in from the main part of the building, wiping her oily hands on a piece of waste.
“What can I do for you?” she inquired briskly.
“You remember us, don’t you?” asked Penny, leading into the subject of tires as gradually as possible. “We’re friends of Salt Sommers.”
“Oh, sure!” the woman’s face lighted. “You came in with him the night of the bad storm.”
“My car had been stripped of its tires. Ever since, I’ve been wondering how to get new ones.”
A slightly guarded expression came over Mattie Williams’ face. She said nothing.
“I was told I might obtain some here,” Penny plunged on.