The Story of Sugar Part 11

"_Acted_ is just the word," Van cut in. "He has acted, all right. I guess you'll find he's been acting all the time. Honor bright, hasn't he said anything to you about me?"

"No, not one word." Then suddenly Bob flushed; the memory of his father's strange conversation about the boy's visit to the refinery rushed over him. "Dad did say one thing which I did not understand at the time," he confessed reluctantly. "Perhaps, though, he did not mean anything by it."

"What was it?"

Bob struggled to evade the issue.

"Oh, it was nothing much."

"Come, Bobbie, you and I are friends," interrupted Van, "and we want to keep on being friends no matter how our fathers feel toward one another. If they have quarreled it is a great pity, but at least we needn't. The only way to straighten out this tangle is to be honest with each other and get at the truth; then, and not until then shall we know where we stand."

"You're a brick, Van!"

"Come ahead then--let's have it. What was it your father said?"

"He merely asked whether it was your plan or mine to visit the refinery, and when I told him I suggested it he inquired all over again if I was sure you did not mention it first," Bob returned in very low tone. The words seemed wrung from him, and he colored as he repeated them.

"Was that all?"

"Not quite. After I had convinced him that the trip was my own idea he said: '_Well, well--it can do no harm; the process is an open secret, anyway._'"

"You see I was right in my guess as to his feelings, Bobbie."

"Maybe."

"Of course I was; this proves it."

"I'm afraid so," whispered Bob miserably.

"Now all this may explain to you why I was so queer when we were at the refinery this morning," Van continued, once more reverting to the subject. "Do you understand it any better?"

"I can see you didn't want Mr. Hennessey to tell you much about his processes."

"You bet I didn't. I was in an awful hole. I got that letter from my father just before we left the house, and I was all upset over it.

I didn't know what to do. It was bad enough to be visiting you without being shown all through your father's business plant as if I were an honored guest. It didn't seem as if I ought to go at all. If your father knew who I was he certainly couldn't want me to; and if he didn't it was worse yet. At first I thought the only honorable thing was to go straight to him and have it out; but I found I hadn't the nerve. Then I thought I'd ride with you to the factory and not go in. What I dreaded was that we might run into something that I should have no right to see, and that was precisely what happened."

"So that was the reason you stopped Mr. Hennessey when he started to tell us the chemical formula?"

"Yes. He said it was a secret, and it seemed to me it would be wrong for me to listen. If I didn't know what that formula was I certainly couldn't tell it, and ignorance might help me out of an awkward position if any one should try to persuade me to."

"You are a trump, old man."

"It was only the square thing toward your father; he has been straight with me and I want to show him that I can be a gentleman, too."

The boys were silent for an interval; then Bob said:

"Now about this snarl, Van--what are we going to do? Certainly we fellows are not going to let this feud of our fathers affect us."

"Not by a jugful!" retorted Van with spirit. "The thing for us to do is to go right on being friends as if nothing had happened. It will make it all the easier that your father knows just who I am, and my father knows exactly who you are; it is franker and more in the open to have it so. If worse comes to worse we can talk the whole thing out with our families, and tell them how we feel. I am sure both your father and mine are too big to spoil a friends.h.i.+p like ours because of some fuss they had years and years ago. No, sir! I'm going to hold on to you, Bobbie, and," he added shyly, "I'm going to hold on to your father, too, if he'll let me, for I like him."

"I'm glad you like Dad," Bob said, flus.h.i.+ng with pleasure. "I do myself."

"My dad isn't so bad, either," Van ventured with a dry little smile.

"Some time you shall see for yourself."

"I hope so."

"Then it is agreed that we'll stick together, no matter what happens," said Van solemnly.

"Sure thing!"

"Promise."

"You may bank on me," was Bob's earnest answer.

CHAPTER VII

MR. CARLTON MAKES A WAGER AND WINS

As the boys sat at dinner that evening Mr. Carlton inquired about their trip to the refinery, and with a humorous twinkle in his eye added:

"I do not suppose you would care to put in another day on factory visiting, would you?"

"What do you mean, Dad?" asked Bob.

"I was wondering whether you would like to see where some of our sugar goes," was his father's answer. "Would you be interested to take a tour through the Eureka Candy Factory to-morrow and learn how candy is made?"

"I should," responded Bob promptly.

"And you, Van?" demanded Mr. Carlton with a kindly smile.

"I'd like it of all things," said Van, returning the smile frankly.

"Very well. You shall spend to-morrow at the Eureka Company's factory. They are big customers of ours and when I telephoned them today they told me they would be glad to have you come, and promised to show you all about."

"Are you sure they would want me to come, Mr. Carlton?" asked Van, looking squarely into the eyes of the older man.

"Why not? You're a chum of Bob's, aren't you?"

"Yes. But, you see, that isn't all."

With one searching glance Mr. Carlton scanned the lad's face.

"No, Van," he replied with quiet emphasis, "that is not all. You are more than Bob's chum--you are a friend of mine, too."