Wrenched, broken, bruised, he was still able to talk.
“Come through, Jim—what’s the truth?” asked the Chief.
“I hated Tredway from the time he got the girl I wanted to marry,” Jim panted, as they gave him water. “I went from bad to worse—went to the dogs. I got in with tough men, tried prize-fighting, that’s how my face got changed, so I wasn’t easy to remember and recognize.
“Laid low for a while, then I gave up plans for revenge, and decided to come to work here to be close to the woman I loved, only, last Fall, she went away. So I knew Tredway had drove her to separate—”
“You’re crazy! My wife went to Europe for a long visit with relatives in France!”
“Honest? Then all my hate was on a wrong idea. Well, you know most of the rest. I damaged ships, worked with the bookkeeper and the supply clerk and a manager of The Windsock to substitute cheap stuff for good, sell the good and ruin the plant—but it was all no use—and started on a wrong idea—no use to say I’m sorry—but—well, boys, handle me easy—I’m no good, but I can feel pain!”
In that fashion the culprit confessed.
“I feel sorry for Jimmy-junior, and the man’s wife,” said Curt, after the ambulance had taken Sandy Jim to the hospital.
“Jimmy-junior isn’t his son,” explained Mr. Parsons. “He is the son of Sandy’s brother, whom Jim took to raise. It would be a good idea if you young men took him into the Sky Squad now, to take his mind off his sorrow.”
“But I saw his mother and I thought she was Jim’s wife,” said Al.