“How easy it would be for a man to step out onto the roof from there,” she thought. “If the skylight or the stairway door were unlocked, he easily could enter the Star photography room without being seen.”
Across the way, in the adjoining building, a man stood at an office window, watching Penny curiously. Sun glared on the panes so his face was distorted. But from the location of the window, she felt certain it was Mr. Cordell.
After a moment, Penny turned and went back down the stairs. The exit at its base was barred by a door with a rusty key in the lock.
Passing through, Penny locked it, and slipped the key into her purse.
“That should stop our prowler for a few days,” she thought.
In the photography room again, she checked the skylight, and finding it locked, was convinced that this time the mysterious visitor had entered the building by means of the stairs. She knew the door was usually kept locked, but undoubtedly the janitor had been careless.
By this time Salt was feeling much better. While Penny waited, he explained to the editor why the photos would not be ready until morning, then declared he was ready to start for Blue Hole Lake.
“Do you really feel like going?” Penny asked dubiously.
“Sure thing,” the photographer insisted. “It takes more than a little tap on the head to put me out of running.”
Salt walked a trifle unsteadily as they went down the back stairs together, but once they were in the press car, he seemed his usual jovial self.