"She doesn't want me to know how hard things are growing," he mused.
"She thinks of me all the time, and is the dearest little mother in the
world. I'd give up anything for her, and I'm going to find a position
somewhere, somehow. That's settled. There's got to be more money coming
in through the door of the Morrisons, and it's up to Richard to set the
stream in motion."
His resolution was all very well, but it was not so easy to decide where
this fountain could be tapped that was to pour its tiny golden stream
into their almost empty reservoir.
Again and again he shook his head resolutely as he trudged along, and
the expression on his face was that of one who has made up his mind and
will not allow himself to be turned aside by any obstacle; it was the
look of a _winner_, and when his mates saw Dick Morrison set his teeth
in that determined way they knew he was bound to lead his side to
victory, no matter what the opposition.
Dick presently drew near the little cottage in which he and his mother
had lived ever since he could remember, and which, with its flower
garden, was as pretty a spot as one could find along the river road just
outside the town.
Thinking only of showing a cheery face to the one who had ever been his
best friend and counsellor on earth he tried to forget his worries, and
starting to whistle merrily opened the gate and passed up the walk.
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