Glancing sidewise, he sensed that much the same comparisons were passing through Bob’s mind. Al gave no thought to character. His whole attention was bent on the possibility of “action!”
Curt, who liked to look for good points more than for the other sort, checked up Barney’s dark eyes, almost black, and decided that they were only serious because of the gravity of the situation. They could twinkle with fun, he guessed; also, the mouth was so shaped that Bob admitted to himself that Barney smiled oftener than he scowled.
“I have told Mr. Horton about you three young aviation enthusiasts,” Fred Wright began. “Also I have explained that you used to be very fond of ‘detecting’ in a decidedly amateurish way, of course.” He smiled across the desk toward Barney, whose face broke into a broad, pleased grin, immediately suppressed because of the seriousness of his errand.
“I’ll say we were amateurish,” chuckled Bob. “Why, Mr. Horton——”
“Call me Barney—just Barney,” the visitor interrupted.
“If you say so, sir. Well, Barney, then! We were crazy to be great detectives, because father is one,” he paid the compliment whole-heartedly and only his father smiled and shook his head deprecatingly, “but we let our enthusiasm take the place of brains,” Bob added. “I was not much help because I let vanity get the best of cool, common sense——”
“I was a failure because I am too impulsive,” contributed Al.
“I was so short-sighted, in my mind, that I forgot to look at the whole of a case and pinned my nose down onto every little clew,” Curt grinned sheepishly, “so I kept going around in circles.”
“All the same,” Mr. Wright looked over at Barney, “in such work as boys could do—they were a few years younger then—these three helped me a great deal in handling two quite important cases.”
The trio lowered their heads modestly.