“Hello!” he spoke into the instrument.
“Father! Don’t! Those fellows are protecting me! I can’t let them!”
Griff stood in the office door, his face white, his lips quivering.
Mr. Parsons, catching sight of his son, stared.
“Just a minute, Griff,” he said. “Hello—is the——”
“Father! You shan’t! You mustn’t! Listen to me. I took that money!——”
The telephone receiver dropped, hanging by its cord to swing unheeded against the man’s leg.
“I’ll confess!” Griff, for all his fear of his father, of consequences, was showing his true manliness. “I ran away, Father, because I thought I had put the money back and locked the safe. I didn’t want to be caught. I thought I could go down the fire escape and get away. But when I saw you catch Bob I came back and listened—I must not let these fine friends stand a night in a cell for something I’ve done.”
Then, haltingly, ashamed and despairing, but honestly, Griff cleared the Sky Squad and told the truth.
“He was trying to get out of his trouble,” Curt said to end the deep silence that followed Griff’s explanation, “and he didn’t want to come to you when you had so many things on your mind.”