“Yes,” fired up the fellow named Vernon; “we heard you, and if I was in Brackett’s place you wouldn’t be heard much longer. Say, Elmer, why don’t you wire your father and get some kind of an accommodating crowd around here.”
“I’d soon show who was boss if I was near the old man,” grumbled young Brackett.
“I am boss here, if that is what you want to call it,” said Dave. “This is private property, I am in charge, and you are trespassers. Outside of your not coming at me in the right way, I want to say to you that the Gossamer is here for a specific purpose, and I have my orders and plans.”
“If my father was here, he’d soon order you to give us a spin in the Gossamer,” declared Brackett.
“I know who your father is, and respect him greatly,” replied Dave, “but I would have to have his written order to do any work outside of routine.”
“Oh, is that so!” sneered Brackett. “You seem to make no bones about gallivanting about in the Gossamer as freely as you choose with your own particular lady friends.”
Dave made no reply. He did not consider that his visitors had the fineness of mind to understand the pathetic circumstances of his efforts in behalf of the Winston family.
Vernon gave his companion a wink and a nudge. He whispered some quick words to him that Dave did not catch. Young Brackett drew out a wallet stuffed full of money.
“See here, Dashaway,” he spoke, in a tone meant to be friendly and wheedling; “be a good fellow. There are some girls down at the hotel I promised to show the Gossamer to, and what she could do on the water. I’ll make it a twenty. Come, help us out.”
“I am sorry,” replied Dave, steadily.