“Jerry can’t have had much of a start, and we know he headed for Caleb Corners! I’ll go after him.”
“We’ll both go,” Penny said quickly. “Come on, let’s get the car.”
Before they could leave the hospital steps, the receptionist came hurrying outside.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re still here!” she said breathlessly, looking at the photographer. “Aren’t you Mr. Sommers?”
“That’s me,” agreed Salt.
“A telephone call for you.”
“Say, maybe it’s Jerry! Wait here, Penny. I’ll be right back.”
Salt was gone perhaps ten minutes. When he returned, his grim expression instantly informed Penny that the call had not been from Jerry.
“It was from my friend in the Motor Vehicle Department,” he reported. “He traced the license number of the car that was in the accident.”
“How did he know you were here, Salt?”