Driggs surveyed his face with a keen, tantalizing gaze.
"Mebbe 'twas your father, then, who was in the yard last night, and who refused to answer the policeman's hail," suggested the boat builder.

"I'd better go up to his office and show him these things and ask him, I guess." "But I don't believe my father will know anything about it," spoke young Ripley huskily.
"Then your father will want to know something about it," Driggs went on.

"He's a man of an inquiring turn of mind.

Let's run up to his office together and ask him." "No, no, no!" urged Fred, his face growing paler.
"Then why were you here last night ?" "I wasn't here," protested the boy.
"Perhaps I can tell you why you were here," Driggs went on, never losing his affable smile.

"You don't like Dick Prescott, and you don't like his boy friends.