He sat for some time musing, with a smile on his lips after they had left him. Then the conversation he had with them about the money he held in trust recurred to him, and he stepped over to the safe, took out the funds and counted them.
He gave a whistle of surprise when he realized how much had accumulated.
“Too much to have on hand at one time,” he said to himself, as he closed the safe. “I must get that over to the bank!”
[CHAPTER XIX—DANCING TO RADIO]
“That talk with Mr. Harvey has certainly made me ambitious,” remarked Bob that evening, as the boys were tinkering with their radio set.
“Who was that poet who said:
‘I charge thee, fling away ambition,
’Twas through ambition that the angels fell,’
quoted Joe.
“Pretty good dope, too, if you ask me,” said Jimmy.
“I might have expected that that would hit you pretty hard,” replied Bob, with what was meant to be withering sarcasm, though Jimmy did not “bat an eyelash.” “But it doesn’t apply to me at all. In the first place, I’m not an angel——”