“Seven o’clock—time to get up!” called a cheery voice which Bill sleepily realized was Mrs. Parker’s.
“All right, thanks,” he called back. “Be down in a jiffy. And would it be too much trouble to fix us a couple of sandwiches before we start?”
“Ezra and I,” said Mrs. Parker from the other side of the closed door, “figured as how you’d be wanting something. We’re waitin’ supper for you. And there’s a showerbath at the end of the hall—plenty of hot water if you want it.”
“We certainly do,” called Bill, “thanks a lot, Mrs. Parker. We’ll make it snappy.”
He leaned over and picked up a rubber sneaker. A moment later it bounced off of Charlie’s red head, effectually bringing that young man back from dreamland.
Supper with the Parkers was a pleasant affair. When it was over Bill had some little trouble to make Mrs. Parker accept payment for their entertainment. He guessed, however, that their financial condition was none of the best, so when she asked him if a dollar would be too much, he pressed a five-spot on the astonished young matron and refused to take change. While he went out to assist Parker in an inspection of the Loening, Charlie, not to be outdone in gallantry, insisted on helping wash the dishes.
Out in the hangar, Bill came to a decision on a question he had been considering throughout the meal. Ezra Parker and his pretty wife were an honest, wholesome pair. He needed someone in Clayton whom he could trust and so he came at once to the point.
“Mr. Parker, I need a friend,” he said quietly. “I dare say you aren’t averse to making some extra money?”
Ezra smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I liked you the minute I set eyes on you this morning, Bill,” he declared. “I guess there need be no mention of money in our friendship.”
“Perhaps not. But this friendship has a job attached to it, and you told me when I landed, that business was none too good.”