“Maybe not,” said Salt, examining them. “The professor may have thought they were unexposed plates and kept them for use later on.”
“Anyway, it was crooked of him to try to keep the camera,” Penny declared. “Though I suppose such a small theft doesn’t amount to much in comparison to the trick he nearly played on Mr. Johnson.”
“It matters to me,” the photographer chuckled. “Am I glad to get this camera back! The plates won’t do us any good now they are outdated, but I’ll take them along anyhow. I’m curious to see if they would have shown anything of significance.”
“By all means develop them,” urged Mr. Parker. “Anything else in the suitcase?”
In a pocket of the case Penny found several letters from Mr. Johnson which she gave to her father. Knowing they would be valuable in establishing a case of attempted fraud against the professor, he kept them.
“I wish Webb Nelson hadn’t managed to escape,” Penny remarked as the trio went downstairs again. “He must have started for Newhall, perhaps to catch a train.”
“Any due at this time?” her father asked thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Tell you what,” Mr. Parker proposed. “We can do nothing more here. We may as well drive to the village again and press an inquiry for Webb.”
Once more the car with Salt as driver careened over the bumpy country road to Newhall. They reached the town without sighting anyone who resembled the professor’s helper.