“Who’s he?” asked Penny. “I never heard of him.”
“Well, neither did I until this afternoon,” Bill admitted. “He gave me a dollar to come over here and fill the tank of this boat with gas. I’m only carrying out orders.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Penny declared with satisfaction. “How did you meet Mr. Wessler?”
“I was working on the dock, tinkering with my engine, when a man came up and started talking to me. He said he was a friend of Mr. Wessler who was planning a fishing trip. Then he told me where the boat was, and said he’d give me a dollar if I’d run over and fill the tank with gasoline.”
“Didn’t you think it a rather peculiar request?”
“Not the way the fellow explained it. Mr. Wessler is a busy man and doesn’t have time to look after such details.”
“Mr. Wessler is afraid this locality is being watched, and he isn’t taking any chances,” Penny said soberly. “Bill, you’ve been assisting a thief!”
“Gee Whiskers!” Bill exclaimed, aghast. “I never thought about him not owning the boat. What should I do?”
“First of all, don’t fill that tank with gasoline,” Penny advised.
“It’s about half full now.”