You've had a great day of
it, my boy, a wonderful day. Really I envy you the pleasure of telling
how you received those honorable burns; and I'd give something to have a
pretty girl tie up my hand in her own dainty kerchief."
"Now you're joshing me again, Mr. Winslow. Of course she and her mother
felt as if they couldn't do enough for me; but then you know, that's the
way with the women folks. I'd like to have run away you see, but I had
to wait for the package Mr. Gibbs sent me after."
"You're altogether too modest, Dick. Most boys would have puffed out
with pride after doing such a thing; but I like you all the better for
it, my boy. Now, if that bank examiner finds a chance to talk with you
to-morrow, just put him wise to all you know about the happenings of
that day, especially as to what you saw at the time you peeked in
through that blessed knothole--I use that word, you understand, because
it is going to figure a whole lot in the final discovery of those
missing securities. Don't forget, now."
"I certainly won't," replied Dick, accepting the hand of the friendly
teller in his one good palm, and yet wincing with the pressure he
received.
He anticipated with keenest pleasure his meeting with his mother, and
wondered if those wise eyes of hers would note his color when she
discovered the dainty kerchief of Bessie Gibbs pinned around his left
hand--he meant to keep it always as a souvenir of that exciting time.
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