“It does look that way. Still, it’s possible the officers might have registered at another hotel.”
“Possible but hardly probable. Lou, I believe Professor Bettenridge is a crook. I wish we could witness that demonstration of his tomorrow night!”
“I’ll never be able to go,” Louise said regretfully. “I’m playing in a recital—worse luck.”
“I might get Salt to ride over with me,” Penny thought aloud. “Well, we’ll see.”
The following morning she took time from her work to seek the photographer. He was in the darkroom, but the door was open. As she stepped inside, he whirled around, his face startled.
“Oh, it’s you!” he chuckled in relief.
“Why, Salt!” Penny teased. “You acted as if you thought I might be a holdup man. Why so jumpy?”
“Was I?” the photographer asked, his tone queer.
“You certainly were. Anything wrong?”
“This place was entered again last night,” Salt said reluctantly. “I can’t figure it out.”