“It was young Brackett,” said Dave. “He came to settle the damage up at the greenhouses.”
“With real money?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You surprise me,” observed the old man, drily.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Mr. Grimshaw,” said Dave. “There is some good in him.”
“Humph! It’s all under the surface, then. You are too soft-hearted, Dashaway. It’s of a piece with that Jerry Dawson affair. After he and his crowd had done you all kinds of harm, stolen the Drifter and tried to put you out of business, you let him go scot free.”
“Hoping Jerry had learned his lesson and would behave himself.”
“Which he won’t,” affirmed the old man, strenuously. “I’ll wager he’ll pop up in some mean way before you get through with this giant airship scheme.”
“There’s Hiram,” announced Dave, brightly, as the gate slammed and a cheery whistle echoed through the enclosure.
Dave’s loyal young assistant came into the tent flushed and animated from a run in the rain.