“He suggested that I keep you girls entertained until around eleven-thirty if I could.”
“That being the case, we’ll accept your invitation with alacrity,” laughed Penny. “How about the Golden Pheasant?”
“Oh, no, you don’t! Phillip’s Bean Pot is nearer my speed.”
A block farther down the street Jerry paid the driver and escorted the girls into a clean but low-priced restaurant.
“No item on the menu over ten cents,” he chuckled. “Do your worst. I can take it.”
Penny and Louise ordered sandwiches, while the reporter fortified himself with a plate of scrambled eggs, two doughnuts, and a cup of coffee. Returning to the front counter for a forgotten napkin, he nodded carelessly at an elderly man who sat alone, sipping a glass of orange juice.
The man acknowledged the greeting in an embarrassed way, quickly lowering his head. Within a few minutes he left the café.
“Jerry, who was he?” Penny inquired curiously. “I am sure I’ve seen him before, yet I can’t remember where.”
“That was old man Judson. Matthew Judson.”
“Not the former publisher of the Morning Press!”