"Daddy!" she cried, rushing into his arms. "Oh, Daddy—Daddy!"
Even without this demonstration. Kendrick would have recognized Henderson Blake from pictures he had seen recently in the papers.
Now he was introduced, and Blake was gripping his hand warmly.
"I don't quite know what this is all about, Professor," he heard the great financier say. "Marjorie's telegram last night was as cryptic as it was over-joying. But I do know that I owe you a deep debt of gratitude."
"Yes, and you owe our pilot about a thousand dollars, too!" put in the daughter of the house, clinging to her father's arm. "Please give him a check—then we'll go inside and I'll explain all about it."
"A matter very much easier dispatched than my debt to Professor Kendrick," said Blake, complying.
The check was for two thousand, not one, the pilot saw when he received it.
"Thank you very much, sir!" he said, saluting.
"Don't mention it. Good night—and good luck to you!"