“I am circulating a subscription paper among the aviators,” added Andy. “We expect to raise a thousand dollars for you to go to some quiet town and buy some small business that will give you a living.”
No person could resist the kindliness of Andy under the circumstances. Duske broke down completely. He was as sincere and penitent as a man of his rough mould of mind could be.
“I don’t deserve it, I’ve been a bad man,” he declared, with tears in his eyes. “What can I do for you for all your kindness to me?”
“You can do something, Mr. Duske,” said Andy. “There is a man named Morse. Do you know him?”
“Why, yes, I do,” replied Duske, with a great start. “Do you?”
“I happen to.”
“What has he got to do with you and me?”
“Just this,” said Andy, “you have treated him badly. He is my friend. You had a hold on him. What was it?”
“A forgery he never committed.”
“Are you willing to prove that, and clear him?”