“What are you talking about? I haven’t heard anything,” answered the money lender’s son in a nervous, high-pitched voice.
“Dave went out the other evening for a walk, and he hasn’t returned. I don’t suppose you have seen or heard anything of him?”
“I haven’t seen anything of Dave Porter! I don’t know anything about him!” Nat’s manner showed his agitation. “Why should you come to me about him?”
“Oh, I thought you might be interested. His disappearance is worrying us a good deal.”
“Humph! Perhaps he got scared and deserted.”
“You know better than to talk that way, Nat,” replied Phil sharply.
“I mean maybe he went back to one of those French towns to have a good time for a day or two,” continued the money lender’s son.
“Don’t talk like a fool! You know Dave Porter would never break away like that. His disappearance has a serious side to it, although what, we don’t know.”
“Well, if you know all about it, why do you bother me?” went on Nat, looking more sour than ever.
“Nat Poole, if I had your disposition I’d go down to the river and drown myself!” declared the shipowner’s son in disgust. “Dave is right from your home town, and he’s as good a fellow as there is in the world. And even though he did give you what you deserved, you ought to have some interest when he is missing and may be in serious trouble. For all we know, he may be a prisoner of the Germans.”