Father and son looked at each other steadily. The boy was backed against the side of the desk, and it seemed as though he had stopped breathing.
“Yeah, I believe I do,” said Len slowly, and then held out his hand. “Hello, little pardner.”
Shyly the boy shook hands with him, swallowing heavily.
“Mighty nice kid,” said Breezy huskily. “Me and him have become good friends, Len. He’s smart.”
Len nodded slowly, his eyes on the boy.
“How are yuh, Larry?” he asked.
“I’m—I’m fine.”
“That’s great, Larry; you shore look good.”
“Looks jist like you, Len,” said Breezy.
For several moments none of them spoke.