Keggs’ eye rested on William Bannister, and he shook his head.
“I shouldn’t, Mr. Dingle. Really I shouldn’t. You don’t know what an ugly mood he’s in. Something’s been worrying him. It’s what you might call courting disaster.”
“Gee! Do you think I want to do it? I’ve just got to. That’s all there is to it.”
A few moments later Keggs returned with the news that Mr. Bannister would see Dingle in the library.
“Come along, kid,” said Steve. “Gimme hold of the excess baggage, and let’s get a move on.”
So in the end it was Mr. Bannister who was discovered and Steve who made the entrance. And, as Steve pointed out to Kirk later, it just made all the difference.
The effect of the change on Steve was to make him almost rollicking in his manner, as if he and Mr. Bannister were the nucleus of an Old Home Week celebration or two old college chums meeting after long absence. Nervousness, on the rare occasions when he suffered from it, generally had that effect on him.
He breezed into the library, carrying the wheelbarrow, the box of bricks, and the dying pig, and trailing William in his wake. William’s grandfather was seated with his back to the door, dictating a letter to one of his secretaries.
He looked up as Steve entered. He took in Steve and William in a rapid glance and guessed the latter’s identity in an instant. He had expected something of this sort ever since he had heard of his grandson’s birth. Indeed, he had been somewhat surprised that the visit had not occurred before.
He betrayed no surprise.