Dorry said, “We want these fellows to find out who Jib Jab is; we want to start things going so they can find out of their own accord, before it’s too late.”
“Yes, and how about poor Jib Jab?” Harry said. “If you harm one person to help another, do you call that a good turn? How do we know why he’s traveling with that circus and living in an animal’s skin? Seems to me we’ve got to consider him when we act.”
Gee, by that I saw that there’s a lot more to good turns than some fellows think.
“But anyway,” I said, “Harry, that fellow is reckless just like you. Do you mean to tell me his mother and father haven’t got a right to know where he is? Just because you went all over the world doesn’t say——”
“Well, there isn’t any mention of his mother and father here,” he said; “only Mr. Horace E. Wade, up there in Greendale, or whatever they call it.”
For a couple of minutes, Dorry and I didn’t say anything, and Harry just sat there on a log whittling a stick.
Then he said, “Let’s see that picture again.”
Dorry handed it to him and he looked at it in that funny, squinty way, same as before, then handed it back.
“Then can’t we do anything about it?” I asked him.
“How about getting the reward ourselves?” he asked me.