The Clock Strikes Thirteen Part 25

"Look at these melons." Penny held up one which bore the blurred stamp.

"The trade name has been altered."

The dealer took the cantaloupe from her, examining it briefly. She then offered him the single melon bearing the Davis stamp.

"Well, what about it?" he asked.

"Just this. A few nights ago a truck load of melons similar to these, was stolen from the Davis farm near Riverview. The thief was trailed right to this city."

"You're trying to say that I sell stolen melons!"

"I'm not making any direct accusations," Penny replied evenly. "No doubt you can explain where you got the melons."

"Certainly I can. I bought a truck load of them from a farmer named John Toby. The melons were good, the price cheap, and I didn't pay any attention to the stamp."

"Is Mr. Toby a regular dealer?"

"I buy from him now and then, when his prices are right. I never bothered to ask any questions."

"Where does the man live?"

"I can't tell you that. He's a large, heavy-set fellow with brown hair and eyes."

The description was too meagre to be of value to Penny.

"Does Mr. Toby drive a red truck?" she inquired thoughtfully.

"He did this last time."

"It was a red truck which was stolen from the Davis farm," Penny said quietly. "I'm sure these melons came from there too."

"I paid good money for them," the dealer retorted in a defiant tone. "So far as I knew, they belonged to this fellow Toby. I can't investigate every farmer who offers me produce."

"All the same, you could get into serious trouble for selling stolen melons," Penny replied. "Of course, I have no intention of going to the police, providing you are willing to cooperate."

"What d'you mean, cooperate?" the dealer inquired suspiciously.

"Only this. Will you see John Toby again?"

"That's hard to tell. He said he might bring in another load of melons within the next few days."

"When you receive the next shipment, will you notify me?"

"Yes, I'm willing to do that," the dealer promised. "If Toby is crooked, I want to know it myself."

Penny gave the man her name, address, and telephone number. Knowing that he might not be able to reach her quickly enough, she instructed him to detain the farmer by force if necessary.

"If I can't get in touch with you, I may have the fellow questioned by police," the dealer offered. "I don't want to put myself into a hole."

Penny was not entirely satisfied that the market man would keep his promise. However, she hesitated to make a report to the police without first consulting her father. Everything considered, it seemed best to let the situation work out as it would.

"Well, your luck is still running true to form," Louise said jokingly, as the girls drove toward Riverview. "Do you have any idea who John Toby may be?"

"Not the slightest," Penny confessed. "The description would fit Hank Holloway, or for that matter, any one of a dozen men I know."

The girls arrived in Riverview by mid-afternoon after an uneventful trip.

Penny dropped Louise at the Sidell home and then went to the _Star_ office to talk with her father. Mr. Parker was absent from his desk, but his secretary who was typing letters, explained that he would return in a moment.

Penny sat down in her father's chair to wait. A bulky, unsealed envelope lay on the desk. Peering at it curiously she noted that it bore the marking: "Property Deed: Lots 456, 457, and 458."

"What's this?" she asked aloud. "Is Dad buying property?"

"Oh, no," the secretary replied, glancing up from her typewriter. "That is the deed and abstract for the Orphans' Camp site."

"I wonder which property it is?"

"The land Mr. Blake controls, I believe. At least he brought the papers into the office this morning for your father's inspection. I heard him say that if the forms are satisfactory, the deal will be completed at once."

Penny unfolded one of the lengthy doc.u.ments, shaking her head as she scanned the legal terms.

"I don't see how Dad makes anything of this," she said. "Such a mess of words and names!"

"I imagine Mr. Parker intends to turn it over to his lawyer," the secretary smiled.

The editor entered the office at that moment, and Penny directed her next question to him.

"Dad, is it all settled that the camp board will purchase Mr. Blake's land?"

"Practically so," he answered. "If my lawyer, Mr. Adams, approves the abstract, the deal will be completed. Against my advice Mrs. Van Cleve already has given Blake five hundred dollars to hold an option."

"Why did she do that, Dad?"

"Well, Blake convinced her he had another buyer for the property. It's the old story. Compet.i.tion stimulates interest."

"Do the papers seem to be all right?"

"Oh, I've not looked at them," Mr. Parker replied. "Blake is a good real estate man though, so there's not likely to be any flaw."

"Who actually owns the property, Dad?"

"It's there on the abstract," he answered. "Why not look it up for yourself?"

"Too much like doing home-work," Penny grinned, but she spread the doc.u.ment on the desk and began to read various names aloud. "'Anna and Harry Clark to Lydia Goldwein, Lydia Goldwein to Benjamin Bowman--'"

"What was that name?" Mr. Parker demanded sharply.

"Benjamin Bowman." Penny peered at the doc.u.ment a second time to make certain she had made no mistake. "That's the truth, Dad. Who knows, maybe it's your old pal, Ben!"

"Are you making up that name?" Mr. Parker asked skeptically.