She talked into a speaking tube. Jeff seated himself on a comfortable divan, and as soon as he saw him, he approved of the man who came in. About fifty years old, he was short and inclined to stoutness. He wore a gray suit that fitted well and had been chosen with care. His face was flushed and his hair iron-gray. But the blue eyes that set his face off were gentle, understanding and wise. Jeff rose to meet him.
"Mr. Nelson?"
"Yes sir." His voice was soft and pleasant.
"My name's Jeff Tarrant," Jeff introduced himself. "I've come to talk to you about Dan Blazer."
Alert interest flooded the headmaster's face. "Oh, yes. Do you know where he is?"
"Yes. Let me tell you."
Mr. Nelson listened attentively while Jeff spoke of finding Dan in Johnny Blazer's cabin. Jeff told of Dan's fierce anger, and his unshakable determination to seek out whoever had killed his father and extract full vengeance. He spoke of his own part in it and of the paper-loaded shotgun shells. Jeff did not try to conceal the fact that he was a peddler, nor did he hide Dan's interest in peddling. He told of his own hopes to find Johnny's murderer, let the law take its course, and of the effect he thought that would have on Dan.
For a moment after he finished, Mr. Nelson did not speak. Then he asked, "Where is the boy now?"
"I left him in very good hands. He will lack for nothing."
Mr. Nelson looked troubled. "What do you intend to do with him, Mr. Tarrant?"