But let's
drop the subject. I'm glad you told me this, Pliny, unpleasant as it has
been."
"You won't say anything to a living soul?"
"Of course not, not even to my mother, though it's little I ever keep
from her. She would only worry about it, and what's the use? I must look
out for myself. Depend on me to keep mum," replied Dick, quickly,
reaching out a hand and shaking that of the assistant bookkeeper
heartily.
"You know there is a knothole in that partition over there, and if a
fellow cared to he could look in and see what Mr. Goodwyn was doing; but
I wouldn't want to be guilty of that low trick. Hearing what was said in
a loud voice was another matter; I couldn't help that," declared Pliny.
Then they talked of other things; though Dick was unusually sober the
balance of that day, and every time Pliny caught his eye he gave a
little shake of his head as though warning the messenger not to show his
feelings so plainly.
Perhaps Mr. Goodwyn may have noticed the look on Dick's face when he had
occasion to talk with him, and it may have given his conscience a little
stab or so, for he seemed more than ordinarily pleasant to the lad.
Poor Dick was already learning that there may be a cloud upon the
horizon ready to darken the bright skies, no matter how cheerful things
may have looked heretofore; he had secured the situation that was the
dream of his heart, but already a fly had dropped in the ointment.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91