Two blocks farther on, the boys came to Eagle Road, an exclusive residential street in which the homes were few and far apart. High above the river valley, the large dwellings overlooked the business section of the city.
Mr. Silverton’s home near the end of the winding street, was hemmed in behind a tall privet hedge which half-hid a view of the handsome 15-room brick home. At the rear was a rose garden.
“Nice little shack Mr. Silverton has here,” Dan observed, impressed.
“A butler probably will answer the door and say his master regrets he cannot see us,” Brad declared as he unlatched the front gate.
But in walking up to the porch, Dan spied Mr. Silverton at the west side of the yard, talking to a gardener who was weeding a flower bed.
“We’re in luck, Brad!” he exclaimed. “There he is now!”
The wealthy sportsman saw the boys as they crossed the lawn. Straightening up from the flower bed, he regarded them with cold disapproval.
“Mr. Silverton, we apologize for intruding,” Brad said. “We wouldn’t have come, only we want to clear up the misunderstanding.”
“As far as I am concerned, there is no misunderstanding,” Mr. Silverton answered, starting toward the house. “I understand only too well.”
“Saul Dobbs prejudiced you against us,” Dan accused, following after the sportsman, who plainly intended to walk away from the pair.