“Trust me for that.”
“I intend to.”
“I’ve been pretty busy on your affairs, Dashaway,” proceeded the airman. “From what Hiram here told me, I had a clew to start on. At the hotel at Genoa I found out about that boy thief you tried to catch. Finally the hotel clerk remembered a chum of his in the town. I located him, and ran on the fellow I was after. His name is Gregg.”
“He made the hotel people think it was Dave Dashaway.”
“There’s a story to that.”
“Please tell it, Mr. King.”
“Why, the young scamp found some papers among the stuff he stole from you.”
“Yes,” nodded Dave, “some letters directed to my father at Brookville.”
“They were from an old friend of your father, a man named Cyrus Dale.”
“Why, yes,” exclaimed Dave, “I know he once had a great friend by that name.”