Barnes stared dreamily across the road.
“I suppose,” he hesitated, “I ought to go along with you for a day or two.”
“I’ll need you,” said the boy, reaching for his hand.
“But your father mustn’t meet me. It won’t do to allow him to make comparisons. Once he sees you with his own eyes, he’ll put aside all doubts. The others will have to know, of course, but we can keep them quiet.”
“The others?” questioned Van Patten.
“Carl, for one,” answered Barnes. “Your sister, I understand, is engaged.”
“Sis engaged?”
Van Patten made his feet.
“I guess,” he said, “it’s time I got home right away.”
The two started again and on the rest of the short walk Barnes devoted himself more to details. As well as he was able, Barnes sketched rapidly the minor events of those two weeks and repeated once more stories he had made up for the father. Van Patten listened intently, but he groaned at mention of three-fingered Bill and the description of the hut.