“Hello, boys. Remember me?”

Dick rose to meet the man, tall, quiet, and with a smile of greeting on his face that belied¹ the creases² of worry around his eyes.

“I ought to,” Larry also advanced, rather sheepishly. “I tackled you the day you floated the dory out to the cracked-up seaplane.”

“Oh, no hard feelings, my friend,” the man shook hands. “You wrenched³ a shoulder that was already pretty painful—but you thought you had a jewel robber to deal with, so let’s let bygones sleep.”

He shook hands and accepted the lounging chair Dick offered.

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” the man began. “I’m Mr. Whiteside. Of course you wonder what I am here for.”

Naturally they did. Each nodded.
183

“I’ve kept pretty well in the background of this case,” he told them. “I am, by profession, an official of Mr. Everdail’s eastern enterprises. But I consider myself something of an amateur detective ‘on the side’ and I want you three to help me.”

“But Mr. Everdail ‘discharged’ us.” There was no resentment⁴, only remonstrance⁵, in Larry’s quiet remark.

“Oh, I know it. I have seen him, been up in Maine. But he has given me a free hand, and I think you three can be useful. You see, I want that hangar watched, now that the reporters have gone away. I can’t be there day and night—I know,” he broke off to explain, “that you three have suspected me of having something to do with the wrong side of the affair, and naturally enough. I came upon Larry unawares, at the seaplane. I accepted his offer about surrendering jewels and actually had a gun in my hand at the time. No wonder I fall in line as—well, as a suspected person. I don’t hold that against you. As it happens, I am trying to recover the missing jewels, just because I made such a failure of rescuing them before.”

That might, or might not be true, Sandy reflected; but he maintained a careful guard over expression and speech.

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