"Of course, Bob didn't want to come when you sent for me," continued Mr. Davidson's nephew. "But I understand the bank ordered him to come, so he couldn't help himself. He knew I was up here, anyway, and figured that I'd straighten it out for him."
The stout young man breathed deeply and contentedly.
"You're a pair of young fools—and scoundrels!" said Uncle Henry heatedly. "One is as bad as the other."
"Oh, hold on," protested Billy. "Go easy there. Bob's a model young banker. They tell me you've said so yourself; that you were so proud of him you spread the news around."
Mr. Davidson gave his nephew a furious look.
"And to think—none of us recognized you!" exclaimed Polly, staring at the former captain of the one-cylinder launch.
"You were the only one I was afraid of," laughed Billy. "You see, you knew me; the rest didn't—except Morton. That's why I wouldn't let you aboard one day after they'd planned to take you. I knew you'd recognize my voice."
"But didn't Mr. Morton?"
All eyes were turned upon the Englishman. He coughed, but said nothing.
"Of course he knew me; but I did not care about him. I knew he would not squeal. You see, I had it on him about the cards—or I thought I did."