Three members of the Sky Squad held their breath.
“Son,” the voice seemed cool and sharp, but it changed suddenly, “Son, I guess I’d have done better to make a comrade of you than to try to rule you with fear and threats. Come here, Griffith.” The young man advanced, hopeful, but also shame-faced. “Son, we all make mistakes. If we learn not to make them again, that is life’s lesson. I am not a judge. I am—your father!”
Griff’s hand reached out impulsively.
“I had to tell you—but I guess if it hadn’t been to save these friends, I might have gone on. I guess I’m a coward.”
“I should say not!” cried Al.
“Not you!” Bob was equally emphatic.
“It took more bravery to walk in under the circumstances than to tell your father any other time, I say!” Curt exclaimed.
“I will settle with that fellow at the roadhouse,” Mr. Parsons stated, when forgiveness was assured to Griff and the five occupants of the office were determined to “work together” for a change, “If he has been paid——”
“Why not meet the Police Chief somewhere and have Griff tell him the things that are done against the law at The Windsock,” suggested Al. “Then we could all go there and give evidence of how Jenks tried to collect twice from Griff—and maybe we would find out something about—our own mystery. I think he is in it, some way!”
Mr. Parsons decided that he owed the Chief some explanation of his call and, somewhat over-excited, and not his usual sensible self, he failed to realize just what Al’s suggestion implied—that they make Griff incriminate himself, since he had played at the tables without informing against the hotel. The Police Chief agreed to meet them near the roadhouse, and when Mr. Parsons hung up and turned back to them he was much more calm than they had ever seen him. “If I explain my own purposes,” he said, “it will be easier for us all to understand and get together. I have been trying to protect my absent partner——”