“I hope Mr. King has not got away yet,” Dave said to himself.
“Come on, get a hot cup of coffee and some warmed-up pork and beans into you, and you can go back to your wonder staring, if you like,” said Dollinger.
He had arranged a fine breakfast from his stores. Dave felt a sense of gratitude and satisfaction as he realized his novel and pleasant situation.
“Everything is turning out just as I hoped it would,” he reflected. “If only I hadn’t lost that pocket book, and if Mr. Warner doesn’t get track of me.”
Dave insisted on helping Dollinger clean up and pack away the things used for breakfast.
“Are you going to stay here for awhile, Mr. Dollinger?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, all day, I understand,” replied Dollinger. “I don’t know the exact orders until Mr. Alden comes along. He told me, though, yesterday that we wouldn’t make any further move till to-morrow. Why do you ask, lad?”
“I wanted to look about a bit.”
“Go straight ahead,” directed Dollinger heartily. “Say,” he added, with a droll grin, “thinking of sticking to us?”
“Who wouldn’t!” cried Dave—“the way you treat folks.”