Swamp Island Part 11

The interne hung Jerry's suit in a locker at the end of the corridor and then returned to escort Penny and Salt to Room 318.

Jerry, a picture of gloom, brightened as his friends entered.

"I'm sure glad you came!" he greeted them. "I want you to help me get out of here."

"Not a chance," said Salt, seating himself on the window ledge. "This is just the place for you--nice and quiet and safe."

Jerry snorted with disgust.

"Dad and Mr. DeWitt both think Danny Deevers means business," Penny added. "The paper is offering $10,000 reward for his capture."

"Ten thousand smackers! I could use that money myself. And I have a hunch about Danny--"

"Forget it," Salt advised. "This is a case for the police. Just lie down like a nice doggy and behave yourself. We'll keep you informed on the latest news."

"That reminds me," added Penny. "After the ambulance took you away, Dad had the theater searched and the alley. No clues."

Jerry lay still for several minutes, his eyes focused thoughtfully on the ceiling. "If it's the verdict that I stay here, I suppose I may as well give up and take my medicine."

"Now you're showing sense," approved Salt. "Penny and I have an idea that may help trace Deevers. We'll tell you about it later."

"Sure," retorted Jerry ironically, "spare me the shock now. By the way, did you meet an interne in the hall? He was carrying off my clothes."

"Yes, he brought us here," Penny nodded.

"You didn't happen to notice where he hid my clothes?"

"They're safe, Jerry," Penny a.s.sured him. "In a locker at the end of the hall."

The information seemed to satisfy Jerry. Wrapping himself like a coc.o.o.n in a blanket, he burrowed down and closed his eyes.

"I want to catch forty winks now," he said. "If you folks have a big idea that will lead to Danny's capture, don't let me detain you."

"Jerry, don't be cross with us," Penny pleaded. "We know how you feel, but honestly, you'll be so much safer here."

Jerry pretended not to hear.

After a moment, Salt and Penny quietly left the room.

"He's taking it hard," the photographer commented as they sped in the press car toward the _Riverview Star_ building. "In a way, you can't blame him. Jerry's not the type to be shut up in a nice safe place."

"Dad wants to keep him in the hospital until Danny Deevers is captured, but it will be hard to do it."

Salt, driving with one hand, looked at his watch.

"It's after nine o'clock," he announced. "Penny, you've missed the dinner at the Hillcrest."

"I don't mind. So much has happened today, I've had no time to be hungry."

"Want me to drop you off there now?"

"No, the banquet will be nearly over. I couldn't bear to listen to speeches. Let's go straight to the office and find out what that traffic accident picture shows."

"Suits me, only I'm hungry." On impulse, Salt pulled up in front of a hamburger shop offering curb service. "Let's grab a bite before we really go to work to crack this case."

He tooted the horn and a uniformed girl came hurrying to take his order.

Fortified by sandwiches, coffee, and ice cream, the pair then drove on to the _Riverview Star_ office.

Avoiding the busy newsroom, Salt and Penny went up the back stairs to the photographic studio. Bill Jones, a studio helper, was busy at the wire photo machine.

"Has that picture of the traffic accident I sent over come up yet?" Salt asked him.

"On the desk," the boy answered. "Not too sharp."

Salt picked up a dozen pictures which had been printed on glossy paper and rapidly ran through them until he found the one he sought.

Eagerly Penny peered over his shoulder. The two cars involved in the accident were plainly shown, the license numbers of both visible. In the ancient vehicle, the younger man had lowered his head so that his face was completely hidden. The camera had caught a profile view of the older man, also not clear.

"Lousy picture," said Salt contemptuously.

"It shows the license number of the car. Can't we trace the driver that way?"

"The Motor Vehicle Department is closed now. But I know a fellow who works there. Maybe he'll do us a favor and go back to the office tonight and look up the information."

Salt made the telephone call, and after ten minutes of argument, convinced his friend that the requested information was a matter of life and death.

"He'll do it," the photographer said, hanging up the receiver. "Soon's he gets the information, he'll telephone us here."

Penny had been studying the photograph again. She now was ready with a second suggestion. "Even if the faces aren't very clear, let's compare them with pictures of Danny Deevers in the morgue."

"Good idea," agreed Salt.

The newspaper morgue or library where photographs, cuts and newspaper clippings were carefully filed for reference, was just a few steps down the hall. Miss Adams, the librarian, had gone to lunch, so Salt obtained a key and they searched for their own information.

"Here's an envelope marked Danny Deevers!" Penny cried, pulling it from one of the long filing drawers. "All sorts of pictures of him too!"

Critically, the pair studied the photographs.

The escaped convict was a middle-aged, sullen looking man with hard, expressionless eyes. In one of the pictures, parted lips revealed a set of ugly, uneven teeth.

"This shot I took is so blurred, it's hard to tell if they're the same person or not," Salt complained. "But it looks like Danny."

"If it is, that would explain why he tried to make you give up the plate."

"Sure, he knew the car license number would be a tip-off to the police.

But maybe the bird isn't Danny."

"I wish we were certain. Salt, couldn't Jerry identify him from the picture you took?"