“It doesn’t seem worth while to kill him for just twenty dollars,” said Bob, pretending to consider. “That’s just a little over six dollars apiece.”
“No good,” said Joe, decisively. “It would cost more than that to bury him.”
“You’re a cold-blooded set of bandits,” complained Jimmy, in an aggrieved tone. “I’m glad I haven’t got a hundred dollars with me. I’d be a mighty poor insurance risk then, I suppose.”
“I wouldn’t give a lead nickel for your chances,” said Bob. “But don’t let that worry you, Jimmy. You’ll probably never have that much money all at one time as long as you live.”
“I won’t if I wait for you fellows to give it to me,” admitted his friend. “But I’m going over to the hotel and see if dinner is served yet. I’m not going to be the last one in the dining room at every meal.”
“When you get the hang of this place, you’ll always be the first one,” said Herb. “After a little while they’ll make you up a bunk in a corner, and you can even sleep there.”
“Oh, go chase yourself!” exclaimed Jimmy. “You never learned how to eat, Herb, and that’s why you’re such a human bean pole,” and with this parting shot he slammed the door behind him before Herb could think of a suitable reply.
“He got you that time, Herb,” said Bob, with a grin. “I guess we might as well all get ready for dinner. Dad says they hate to have people coming in late.”
Every day after that Mr. Robins dropped in in time to hear the market reports, sometimes alone, and at others accompanied by his partner, Mr. Blackford. The latter was not quite so enthusiastic as his colleague, but he was nevertheless greatly interested, and was always glad to don a head set and hear what was going on.
True to their agreement, the boys instructed the new owner of the set how to adjust it and get the best results. He always paid the closest attention to what they told him, and in a few days could pick up signals and tune the set fairly well.