"It was a splendid thing for you to do, Mr. Darrin! May I walk along with you?"
Dave nodded. It was dark, now, and that portion of the yard appeared clear of any moving beings but themselves.
"Darrin," continued Jetson, "when you risked Coventry in the effort to save me from it, I thought you were posing, though for the life of me I couldn't fathom your motive. But the risk that you took this afternoon wasn't in the line of posing. Do you mind telling me why you did it?"
"I'd have done as much for any man in the brigade," Dave answered frankly.
"Just the same it has touched me—touched me deeply."
"I'm glad of that, Jetson," Dave answered heartily. "And now I hope that we can bury the hatchet and be friends, as men in the brigade should always be."
"But why do you want to be friends with a fellow like me?"
"Because I want to know the real Jetson—not the one that you present outside of a sulky exterior. Jetson, I know there's gold in you, and I want to see it brought to the surface. I want your friendship because—well, it may be a selfish reason, but I think it's worth having."
"That's a funny notion to take," laughed Midshipman Jetson uneasily. "I have never been conceited enough to fancy that my friendship was worth having."
"Let yourself out and be natural, man!"