“Then—this job you mentioned would straighten him out—likely.”
“Say he hadn’t.”
Amos nodded. “That’s what I thought, Pete.” He laid his hand on the other’s shoulder and propelled him gently toward the door. There he paused, added: “You do what I asked, will you, Pete? Make a study of Wint.”
“All right.”
“And—Pete.”
Gergue turned.
“Tell V. R. Kite I wish he’d come and see me.”
Peter’s eyes lighted slowly—and after a moment, he grinned. “All right, Amos,” he said quietly, and went down the walk to the gate.