“Hardly,” responded Brackett. “Our paths probably won’t cross again—and you’re probably the gainer for it.”
“I don’t know that,” declared Dave. “Rest easy on one score—I shall not say anything to your father about to-day’s scrape.”
“Thank you, Dashaway.”
“But I wish you would tell him. Come, now—he’s your best friend. If you’ve been a little wild, go to him and tell him about it.”
“A little wild!” repeated Brackett. Then he gave a bitter laugh, waved his hand at Dave, and disappeared in the darkness.
“Poor fellow!” said Dave, thoughtfully. “I’m afraid, as he hinted, he is in the clutches of that sharper, Vernon. I wish I knew a way to help him out.”
Dave re-entered the enclosure a good deal subdued. Young Brackett had said that their paths might never cross again. Dave hoped if they ever did cross his late visitor would be in a better frame of mind.
Their paths were to cross, indeed, although neither of them realized it at that moment. Dave Dashaway was to hear of him again very soon, and in a truly remarkable way.
CHAPTER VI
A MYSTERIOUS FLASH
“Well, what did he want?” challenged Grimshaw, gruffly, as the young aviator entered the living tent.