Mr. Sturdy returned his son’s embrace, at first in a perfunctory way. Then, suddenly, as though the floodgates of memory had been opened, his clasp tightened. All the hunger of his heart, long separated from his boy, found expression in his voice.
“Don, my dear boy! Don, how glad I am to see you again!”
They remained a long time embraced, uttering words of endearment, and then Don, his face wet with happy tears, released his hold and stepped back, in order that he might see the dear face for which he had searched over a large part of the world.
It was a fine face, cleanly chiseled, with splendid forehead and dark, piercing, but kindly, eyes. The form was like that of his brother Frank’s, tall, sinewy and powerful. His complexion was as bronzed as that of an Indian from his work as an explorer under many suns. But the black hair that Don remembered was now heavily streaked with silver.
“But how comes it that you are in Brazil, my dear boy?” asked his father. “I thought you were at home in Hillville. I was counting on seeing you again as soon as Mr. Clifton had his yacht ready to sail.”
From the first mention of Brazil, Don had been thinking rapidly. It was evident that the happy shock of seeing Don had in some way swept away the knowledge of this present Egyptian adventure and carried his father back again to Mr. Clifton’s plantation.
Don knew little of mental science, but he knew instinctively that any revelation he might make to his father of the real condition of things must be made gradually and tactfully.
“Oh, I got impatient to see you,” he said, with perfect truth. “And as Uncle Frank and Uncle Amos were coming to Brazil on a hunting expedition, I got them to bring me along.”
“Fine!” declared his father. “Your mother will be as delighted as I am to see you sooner than she expected. But perhaps you have seen her already?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve seen her,” replied Don, who found himself getting into deep waters.