Part 17 (2/2)
”So do I, with all my heart. We may, too, if we succeed in running down the other chap,” Corrigan returned. ”I shan't give up hope with Mr.
Christopher on the job.”
”I fancy my son isn't going into the business of tracking down criminals permanently,” Burton, Senior, retorted a bit stiffly.
”Like enough not,” came tartly from Corrigan.
”Still, he can keep his peepers open, eh, youngster?”
He smiled down upon Christopher from beneath his s.h.a.ggy brows, and Christopher smiled back. There was something very likeable about Corrigan.
”I'll look alive,” grinned the boy. ”Only of course you know this kill was just a fluke.”
The modest words evidently pleased the inspector.
”That's all right,” said he. ”You may make another. Who knows?”
He patted the lad's shoulder encouragingly and in friendly fas.h.i.+on added:
”n.o.body bags a diamond robber every day.”
They went out--Mr. Burton, his son, and the two clerks.
”We may as well go to luncheon now,” announced Christopher's father, when the men had left them. ”Where shall we go? We'll have a real celebration in honor of Stuart's capture.”
”Poor Stuart!” murmured the lad.
”Mercy on us! Surely you are not regretting that you landed him in jail.”
”No-o. Still, I'm sorry for him.”
”Of course. We're always sorry to see a person of his ability go wrong.
But he has only himself to thank for his fate. He might have known at the outset where he would bring up. They all are trapped sooner or later.”
”I suppose so.”
”Come, come, son! Don't go wasting any romantic sympathy on Stuart--or whatever his name is. He wouldn't appreciate it. Why, he would rob us again to-morrow if he got the chance,” the head of the firm a.s.serted harshly.
”Probably he would.”
”You know he would.”
”Y-es. But he was such a good sport.”
”He knew there was nothing to be gained by whining and making himself disagreeable.”
Nevertheless, in spite of his father's arguments, Christopher could not entirely put the unlucky Stuart out of his mind. Nor did the fried scallops, grilled sweet potatoes, and salad which his father ordered for him wholly blot out a lurking depression or the haunting memory of the criminal's face. It took two chocolate ice creams and an ample square of fudge cake to dispel his gloom and bring his spirits back to their accustomed cheerfulness.
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