"Then you expect to go away?" asked Dick.
"Yes, in a day or two, to Boston. An uncle has offered me a job in his
office; and as he is a broker I think I see myself getting to the top of
the heap before long," replied the other, braggingly.
"Is your father going with you?" questioned Dick, thinking that the
movements of Archibald Graylock held something of interest for him under
the circumstances.
"No, you see he has to stay around here for some weeks yet, settling up.
He says he will be as poor as Job's turkey when they get through with
him; but if he is, then he was never the keen and clever man I always
took him to be. I suppose he will come down to the city after its all
done, and begin there over again."
"Well, I must get on. Wish you luck when you go, Ferd."
"You're in an awful hurry. I wanted to ask you about that affair up at
old Gibbs' place; they say you saved Bessie's life?" demanded the other,
catching his sleeve.
"All a big yarn. I just happened around in time to jerk down a few
curtains and stamp on the fire. They were nearly in ashes anyhow.
Anybody could have done the same thing. Why, it was a picnic, you know.
Good-bye, Ferd," and jerking loose he ran off, leaving the other looking
after him, and shaking his head, as if unable to understand why any
fellow could resist the chance to play the part of a hero when the
chance came to him as it had to Dick.
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