“I trust I’m not inquiring into secrets,” Mr. Emory went on cheerfully. “Fact of the matter is, I might be able to help your father.”
“I’m sure Dad will want to talk with you.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting your father. Think you can arrange it?”
“Why, I suppose so,” Penny said, though with no great enthusiasm. Again she experienced a queer, uneasy feeling. She did not entirely trust Mr. Emory.
The man smiled and seemed to relax. As the girls arose to leave he tried once more to detain them.
“See that old fellow down the beach?” he inquired, pointing to an aged man who was picking up objects from the sand with a sharp-pointed stick.
“Yes, what about him?” Penny asked, turning to stare. “Just an ordinary beachcomber, isn’t he?”
“I’d not call Old Jake Skagway ordinary,” Mr. Emory corrected. “If you’re really interested in solving the radio station mystery, I’d advise you to keep watch of that rascal.”
“But why him?” Penny asked.
“I can’t explain,” Mr. Emory said with finality. “It’s just a tip. Take it or leave it.”