The man in the doorway, who was Mr. Green, saw Captain Tarwell and the two girls. He knew the seaman well, calling him by name.
“Having your troubles, I see,” observed Captain Tarwell.
“Operating a pigeon loft with hired help is no fun,” Mr. Green replied. “I had to fire young Gradbrough just now. He excites the birds and doesn’t handle them skillfully. He neglects to clean the cages too.”
“Lose any birds?” Captain Tarwell questioned him.
“I lost three in the last flight test. That looks like one of my birds.”
Mr. Green’s gaze had fastened upon Snow White, snuggled in Vevi’s arms.
Vevi told him where she had found the pigeon. Mr. Green briefly examined the leg band and confirmed that the bird belonged to him.
“Frankly, I don’t think the pigeon is worth its feed,” he added. “In two different tests it failed miserably.”
“But Snow White’s wing was hurt,” Vevi said, coming quickly to the bird’s defense. “How could he fly back home?”
“The pigeon isn’t as strong as it should be,” Mr. Green explained. “I breed for profit. If a bird fails repeatedly in tests, it must be culled out.”