“No, Bob. I mean the autograph.”
“Well, it proves one thing, anyway,” Bob asserted. “The single word matches our ‘Everything O.K.’ note. That proves that the man who wrote the note is at that roadhouse, The Windsock.”
“It does,” Curt agreed. “But—is it the man named Jones? Did he write it?”
“Did he write either one?” Bob was puzzled as he spoke.
“He left the room, you said.” Curt turned to Al, who nodded.
“Maybe he didn’t write anything!”
“What does all that matter?” Bob said. “The point is that we have proof that the man who used the brown ‘plane is staying at The Windsock. Now our job is to discover who he is.”
“Let’s see those autographs again.” Curt drew his wheel to the roadside and took the book from Al. “‘T. J.’ is written with a plain leadpencil,” he remarked. “The ‘J. T.’ one is the one written in indelible pencil. ‘J. T.’” he repeated thoughtfully. “Do you suppose Jones transposed his initials and then got a waiter or a clerk to write the other and sign what Al would take for his initials?”
“It’s too tangled up to suppose about,” argued Bob. “Two things we do know from it.”
“One is,” Al remarked, as they resumed their ride, “one is that we know the brown airplane man is at The Windsock. What’s the other?”