Dave's next swift move was to rush back to
Kahn's with the result already known.
"Well, did you think the folks of Gridley would continue to believe
such a charge against young Prescott?" demanded Chief Simmons
of the sneak.
"I knew some wouldn't, but I thought the whole affair would make
such a row that Prescott would never be quite able to hold up
his head in Gridley again," declared Drayne huskily. "But I thought
that it would stop his thinking of going to West Point, anyway."
"Instead of which," muttered Simmons dryly, "you'll get four
years---or more, Drayne at some place that won't be West Point."
"Oh, my father won't quite stand for that," returned Phin, a bit
more loftily. "He has money and some family pride."
"Money doesn't help much for confessed burglars," rejoined Chief
Simmons.
At that moment Heathcote Drayne, who had been roused out of bed
by a policeman, came in, so white faced that Dick and Dave felt
sorry indeed for the unhappy parent.
But Dick didn't remain to see the meeting between father and son.
Prescott and his chum hastened around to "The Blade" office.
Gladly enough would both boys have kept Phin's disgrace from
going before the public, but it was too big a story, locally,
and was bound to come out. So Dick wrote a straight account,
after which he and Dave hurried home to get the fag end of a night's
rest.
Gridley merchants lost but little, in the end, through the series
of burglaries.
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