"You and me both!"

"Dietz ain't to be trusted," the heavy-set man said and his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows drew together in a scowl. "He's thinking first and last of his own skin. We've got to watch him."

"And the girl, too. She's a dumb one and plenty apt to talk if the going gets rough."

Penny lost the remainder of the conversation as Jerry spoke to her.

"We couldn't have picked a worse place," he complained. "Look at all the breakfast egg on the tablecloth. I'm in favor of walking out even now."

"I'm not," replied Penny.

"Say, what's got into you anyway?" Jerry demanded. "You're acting mighty funny."

"Notice those two men at the last table," she indicated.

"What about them?"

"See that heavy-set fellow with the tattooed anchor on his arm? Well, I'm satisfied he is the same boatman who cruised near the Kippenberg estate yesterday afternoon."

"It might be," Jerry agreed, unimpressed. "The Kobalt is only a stone's throw away. And this place seems to be frequented by rivermen."

"You didn't hear what they were saying?" whispered Penny. "Listen!"

Jerry immediately fell silent, centering his attention upon the two men.

But by this time they had lowered their voices so that only an occasional word could be distinguished.

"What were they saying anyway?" Jerry asked curiously.

Before Penny could answer, the proprietor came from the kitchen bearing two plates of food which he set down before them. The sandwiches were covered with a dark brown, watery gravy, potatoes bore a heavy coating of grease and the coffee looked weak.

"Anything more?" the man inquired indifferently.

"That's all," Jerry replied, with emphasis. "In fact, it's too much."

At the adjoining table the two men abruptly hauled to their feet. Paying their bill they quitted the restaurant.

"Let's leave, too," suggested Penny. "I should like to see where they go."

Jerry pushed his plate aside. "Suits me," he agreed. "Even my cast-iron stomach can't wrestle with such food as this."

He paid at the cash register and they went out into the night. Penny looked about for the two men and saw them walking toward the river.

"Hold on," said Jerry as she started to follow. "Tell me what all the excitement is about."

Tersely, Penny repeated the conversation she had overheard.

"They're tough looking hombres all right," Jerry admitted. "Likely as not mixed up in some dirty business. But to say they're involved in the Kippenberg affair--"

"Oh, Jerry," Penny broke in impatiently, "we'll never learn anything if we take that att.i.tude. We must run down every possible clue. Please, let's see if they go down to the river."

"We ought to be getting our story back to the office," Jerry reminded her. "If we miss the last edition there will be fireworks."

"It will only take a minute," Penny insisted stubbornly. "If you won't come with me, then I'm going alone!"

She started away and the reporter had no choice but to follow. A narrow, well-trod path led down a steep slope toward the river. Long before they came within sight of it they could hear the croak of bullfrogs and feel the damp, night mists enveloping them like a cloak.

Drawing closer to the two men, Penny and Jerry slackened pace and moved with greater care. But if they hoped to learn anything from the conversation of the pair ahead they were disappointed. The talk concerned only the weather.

Reaching the banks of the river, the two men boarded a st.u.r.dy cabin cruiser which had been moored to a sagging dock.

"It's the very same boat," Penny whispered jubilantly. "I knew I wasn't mistaken."

"Even so, what does that prove?" demanded Jerry. "It's no crime to run a motorboat near the Kippenberg estate. The river is free."

"But you must admit there _is_ other evidence. Oh, why can't we follow them? We might learn something really important."

"We're not going off on any wild chase tonight," stated Jerry sternly.

"Come on, it's home for us before your father sends a police squad to search for his missing daughter."

"You're losing a golden opportunity, Jerry Livingston."

"Listen, by the time we located a boat those men would be ten miles from here. They're leaving now. Use your head."

"Oh, all right," Penny gave in. "We'll go home, but I'll bet a cent you'll be sorry later on."

She waited until the cruiser was lost to view in the darkness and then allowed the reporter to guide her back up the steep path.

"At least let's try to find out who the men are," Penny urged as they came near the cafe. "The restaurant owner might know."

More to please her than for any other reason, Jerry said that he would inquire. He re-entered the cafe, returning in a few minutes to report that the proprietor had never seen either of the men before.

"And now let's be traveling," he urged. "We've killed enough time here."

During the remainder of the ride back to Riverview, Penny had little to say. But long after she knew Jerry had forgotten the two boatmen she kept turning their conversation over in her mind. She only wished she might prove that her theories were not ridiculous.

Presently, the automobile drew up in front of the Parker residence.

"Won't you come in, Jerry?" Penny invited. "Dad may wish to talk with you about the case."

"I might stop a minute. I have a question or two to ask him."

The door of the house swung open as Penny and the reporter crossed the front porch. Anthony Parker stood framed in the bright electric light, a tall, imposing figure.

"That you, Penny?"

"Yes, Dad."

"I'm glad you're home safe," he said, not trying to hide his relief.