“Not to Fenestra’s?” her chum demanded suspiciously.
“Unfortunately, no. I shall do a bit of spade work by watching Ellis Saal’s shop. This is Thursday, you know.”
“It will be a long, tedious wait.”
“I’ll consider it well worth the time if I learn the identity of Saal’s customer. You don’t care to come?”
“On the contrary, I do. I’ll telephone Mother.”
The girls dined at a café not far from the Weekly Times and soon thereafter stationed themselves a half block from Ellis Saal’s shop. An hour elapsed. Several times they became hopeful as persons paused to gaze at the exhibits in the show window, but no one entered. A cold wind made their vigil increasingly uncomfortable.
“If we don’t get action in another fifteen minutes I am going home,” chattered Louise.
A clock struck eight-thirty. Five minutes later Penny observed a familiar figure coming briskly down the street. She touched her chum’s arm.
“It’s Peter Fenestra,” Louise murmured. “You don’t think he’s the one?”
“We’ll soon see.”