Maybe, when
we come in this evening, I'll run up to his place, and you can
talk it over with him. If your father helped you at one angle,
it's altogether probable that Peter Morrison could help you at
another."
Donald Whiting rubbed his knee reflectively. He was sitting half
turned in the wide seat so that he might watch Linda's hands and
her face while she drove.
"Well, that's all right," he said heartily. "You can write me
down as willing and anxious to take all the help I can get, for
it's going to be no microscopic job, that I can tell you. One
week has waked up the Jap to the fact that there's something
doing, and he's digging in and has begun, the last day or two, to
speak up in class and suggest things himself. Since I've been
studying him and watching him, I have come to the conclusion that
he is much older than I am. Something he said in class yesterday
made me think he had probably had the best schooling Japan could
give him before he came here. The next time you meet him look
for a suspicion of gray hairs around his ears. He's too blamed
comprehensive for the average boy of my age. You said the Japs
were the best imitators in the world and I have an idea in the
back of my head that before I get through with him, Oka Sayye is
going to prove your proposition."
Linda nodded as she shot the Bear Cat across the streetcar tracks
and headed toward the desert. The engine was purring softly as
it warmed up.
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