“Heartily.”
“Do you know a man named Tom Shallock?”
Mr. Knippel shuffled and colored. He looked embarrassed, but he nodded assentingly.
“I have only one favor to ask,” said Ben. “I have reason to believe that this man Shallock has plotted against my father, that you have in your keeping a document of great importance which Shallock stole from my father.”
“Boy, that is true,” admitted Knippel, greatly agitated. “But tell me more. I only know a part of Shallock’s affairs.”
Ben recited the whole story of the stolen contract, of the suspected visits of the Shallocks to the Hardy home, of Saxton’s accusation of theft against his father. Knippel rose to his feet with a determined look on his face when the recital was concluded.
“I shall go from here at once to your father’s lawyer at Woodville,” he promised. “The stolen document shall be restored—more, the Shallock plot against your father’s good name shall be exposed.”
“Thank you,” said Ben.
“No, it is I who thanks you,” replied Knippel in broken tones, “and my little child blesses you every day.”
The following Monday morning, Bob Dallow, chipper as a lark, came to the hospital for Ben in an automobile. Ben was overcome with the greetings that welcomed him at the aviation field. Everybody was packing up to get away, but the Davis quarters were crowded with congratulating professionals, and a big feast was spread. Ben enjoyed a happy time. Count Beausire had delayed his departure to say good-bye to him.