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car, Joe noticed a large, heavy polished rock jammed against the gas pedal. “Look at this,” he said, “This rock was probably used as a weight to press down the gas pedal when the perpetrator drove the car into the river, but what exactly is it?”
    â€œA petrified wood paperweight,” Phil told his friend. “They sell them in souvenir shops all around-here.”
    Joe saw a gold pen holder attached to the paperweight. The pen itself appeared to be missing.
    â€œHenry, you’re going to have to come in with me for questioning,” San Dimas said. He helped Low River into the back of his squad car, got into the front, and drove away.
    Joe shined the flashlight on his watch. It was after midnight. “I think it’s time to call it a day, Phil.”
    â€œGood idea, Joe,” his friend agreed wearily.
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    Back at Windstormer headquarters, Joe and Phil hooked up with Frank, who filled them in on what he had found out about Kanner selling his property. “I also went by the Sandman Motel. Kanner rented a room there, but no one answered when I knocked.”
    â€œI’m guessing Kanner’s going to take the money and run,” Joe said. “If we could just keep him in town long enough to prove our suspicions about him.”
    â€œLet’s talk to Alvin Bixby in the morning before he hands over that fat insurance check to Kanner,” Frank suggested. “If Bixby will delay paying him even for a few days, it might be long enough for us to get to the bottom of this.”
    â€œWe need to tell you about Toby Gill,” Phil told Frank.
    â€œToby Gill!” Frank exclaimed, smacking his forehead. “Wait till you hear what I found out. Oscar Lucas saw Gill packing up and leaving his office this morning. Low River followed him and threw an empty box of thirty-eight cartridges out his window as he passed the diner.”
    â€œThirty-eight caliber?” Joe said. “So maybe Mr. Low River was telling the truth about buying the wrong bullets.” Joe saw the confused look on his brother’s face and quickly told Frank about the events of the night.
    â€œThe evidence is mounting against Mr. Low River,” Phil said, “and either Snowdon is involved, or he’s trying to cover up for his grandfather.”
    â€œUnless Mr. Low River really is being framed,” Joe countered, “and Snowdon is just trying to protect him.”
    â€œIf we believe Low River, Joe, that means Toby Gill is a swindler and was probably closing shop and leaving town this morning,” Frank said.
    â€œBut why?” Phil wondered.
    â€œRemember when I asked who would profitfrom Toby Gill’s disappearance?” Frank said. “There was one person we forgot to mention: Toby Gill himself.”
    â€œOf course,” Joe said. “He collects thousands of dollars in insurance premiums and then skips town before he has to pay out on any damages.”
    â€œInsurance doesn’t work that way,” Phil pointed out. “Gill is just a salesman working for a big insurance company. The customers’ fees are paid to the parent company, and then when the customers have claims, the parent company pays them off, not Gill.”
    Joe frowned. Phil’s information put a damper on his theory.
    Frank recalled the story he had heard in the diner. “Diana Lucas’s family lost their farm because they had bought phony flood insurance from a swindler. What if Gill was doing the same thing—selling false tornado insurance policies and somehow pocketing the money?”
    â€œIt would explain why he would disappear the moment the first tornado hit town,” Joe said.
    â€œBut San Dimas ran a check on Gill,” Phil reminded them. “He’s been an honest salesman for twenty years. Why would he suddenly turn criminal?”
    Frank paused for a moment. “I admit I’m stumped. We need to find out