Alert interest flooded the headmaster's face. "Oh, yes. Do you know where he is?" "Yes. Let me tell you." Mr. Nelson listened attentively while Jeff spoke of finding Dan in Johnny Blazer's cabin. Jeff told of Dan's fierce anger, and his unshakable determination to seek out whoever had killed his father and extract full vengeance. He spoke of his own part in it and of the paper-loaded shotgun shells. Jeff did not try to conceal the fact that he was a peddler, nor did he hide Dan's interest in peddling. He told of his own hopes to find Johnny's murderer, let the law take its course, and of the effect he thought that would have on Dan. For a moment after he finished, Mr. Nelson did not speak. Then he asked, "Where is the boy now?" "I left him in very good hands. He will lack for nothing." Mr. Nelson looked troubled. "What do you intend to do with him, Mr. Tarrant?" "If I can afford it, I want to bring him back here when the fall term opens." Mr. Nelson smiled gently. "Mr. Tarrant, when you looked up the Jackson School for Boys, I'm sure you saw nothing about our being restricted to wealthy boys only. We do have students, and I'll admit that they are of exceptional ability, who pay whatever their parents or guardians can afford." "Where does Dan rate in that category?" "Very highly. Very highly I assure you. An outstanding youngster, but your revelations were not a complete surprise." "You expected him to run away?" "I took him to his father's funeral," Mr. Nelson said softly. "He said little, but I knew what he was thinking. After he ran away, I wrote to the authorities in Smithville, but I've had no reply." "That's my fault," Jeff admitted. "I told them that Dan was under my care and that I'd contact you personally." "You did? By any chance did you have ideas about looking us over?" "I had that idea. And I had no intention of letting him come back if you did not measure up." "Oh! We do meet your standards?" Jeff smiled. "You're good enough." "You might have brought Dan with you." "I might also have put him in a cage," Jeff said wryly. "And if I kept him there for one, three, or ten years, he'd get out some time. When he did, he'd still go back and hunt whoever shot his father." "How old are you, Mr. Tarrant?" "Going on nineteen." "Would it be impertinent to ask your background?" Jeff said quietly, "I lived in an orphanage until I was a little past fourteen. Then I ran away and worked at various jobs. Since quitting the last one, I've been a peddler." "I see. And what do you hope to gain by sending this youngster back to us?" Jeff still spoke quietly. "Sleep, easy sleep at night because I did not leave him alone when he had no one else to whom he could turn." "What does Dan think about it?" "I haven't told him," Jeff grinned, "but I have a pact with him. Dan has agreed to do anything I say." "Why?" "He likes peddling, and he has an idea that he's going to throw in with me. I told him he couldn't unless he minded me."