“Has anything happened, mother?” he asked quickly, his own good news fading away as he thought of the trouble that might menace his father.
“No, only the same trouble about the patent,” she said. “There is nothing new, but your father thinks from the recent actions of Mr. Benjamin that the manager suspects something. Your father is getting some papers ready to go to Washington, and I was looking them over for him. I used to work in a lawyer’s office when I was a girl,” she went on with a smile, “and I know a little about the patent business so I thought I would help your father if I could.”
“Then there’s nothing wrong?”
“Not exactly, and if all goes right he will soon have his patent granted, and then those men can not harm him. But you look as though you had good news.”
“I have,” and the lad fairly bubbled over in telling his mother of the chance that had so unexpectedly come to him.
Mr. Matson was quite enthusiastic about Joe’s chance when he came home from work, and together they talked about it after supper.
“I wish I could go see the game,” said Mr. Matson, “but I am too busy.”
“How is the patent coming on?” asked Joe.
“Oh, pretty good. Thanks to you I was warned in time. If I had left my drawings, patterns and other things in the shop I’m afraid it wouldn’t be going so well. Mr. Benjamin evidently suspects something. Only to-day he asked me how I was coming on with it, and he wanted to know why I wasn’t working on it any more. I had to put him off with some excuse and he acted very queer. Right after that I heard him calling up Mr. Holdney on the telephone.”
“But your worry will be over when your application is allowed,” suggested Mrs. Matson.