protestations simply made Jimmy Holden bitter.

He sat silent and unhappy in the far corner of the front seat all the way
home. In his mind was a nameless threat, a dread of what would come once
they were inside--either inside of Paul Brennan's apartment or inside of
his own home--with the door locked against the outside world.

But when they arrived, Paul Brennan continued his sympathetic attitude.
To Jimmy it was sheer hypocrisy; he was not experienced enough to know
that a person can commit an act and then convince himself that he hadn't.

"Jimmy," said Brennan softly, "I have not the faintest notion of
punishment. None whatsoever. You ruined your father's great invention.
You did that because you thought it was right. Someday when you change
your mind and come to believe in me, I'll ask you to replace it because I
know you can. But understand me, young man, I shall not ask you until you
make the first suggestion yourself!"

Jimmy remained silent.

"One more thing," said Brennan firmly. "Don't try that stunt with the
letter to the station agent again. It won't work twice. Not in this town
nor any other for a long, long time. I've made a sort of family-news item
out of it which hit a lot of daily papers. It'll also be in the company
papers of all the railroads and buslines, how Mr. What's-his-name at the
Midland Railroad got suckered by a five-year-old running away from home.
Understand?"

Jimmy understood but made no sign.