"We—we thought you were murdered," faltered Polly, finding speech.
"Honestly? What put that idea into your head?"
For answer, Mr. Davidson pointed grimly at the stout young man in the chair.
"Hello, Bob!" said Billy Kellogg casually. "You couldn't duck it—eh?"
The prisoner shook his head miserably.
The nephew chuckled as he greeted the captive with a hand-shake.
"Bob's all right," he assured his uncle. "He's a friend of mine."
Mr. Davidson's jaw was hanging.
"But you—you—"
"Why not introduce me, Uncle Henry?"