He paused, regarding Jack curiously. Certainly this unassuming, quiet-mannered young fellow, scarcely out of his ’teens, did not resemble the taker of hair breadth chances whom he had pictured mentally as a result of listening to Mr. Hampton’s descriptions of some of the escapades enjoyed by Jack and his two pals, Bob Temple and Frank Merrick, in South America, Africa, the Far North and at home. Neither did he look like a scientist, yet Mr. Hampton had assured Captain Cornell that his son was out here performing abstruse research experiments in radio for the benefit of the great radio trust.
Jack’s blue eyes twinkled, and looking at his father he shook his head as if in humorous disgust.
“Been boring visitors again, Dad, with your reminiscenses,” he said. “So that’s your idea of hospitality, hey?”
And turning to Captain Cornell, he added:
“You know how it is with fond parents, Captain. Don’t mind him. And don’t hold what he says against me.”
“All right, I won’t,” laughed the other. “But, if I may be pardoned for seeming personal, how is it you happen to be here without your pals? Your father spoke of you three as being inseparable.”
“Well, you see,” explained Jack, “I was a year ahead of the other fellows at Yale. I took my degree in engineering at Sheffield in the Spring. The others are plugging away on their Senior year. They’ll be through in a matter of six weeks or so, and then they’ll be out to spend the Summer with me.”
“I didn’t get a chance to explain all your history, Jack,” interpolated Mr. Hampton with a laugh.
“I see.” Captain Cornell nodded. “And what do you all intend to do then? Get into more adventures? Things are pretty quiet along the border nowadays.”
Jack looked up from his salad, his face grown grave.