He flushed with gratification, but, after a moment's respectful hesitation, shook his head.
"Thank you very much, sir," he replied, "but I wouldn't care to do it. I really wouldn't!"
Though I am fond of the man, his obstinacy nettled me.
"Look here!" I cried. "I'm offering you an unusual chance. You had better think twice before you decline such an opportunity to make something of yourself. If you don't take it you'll probably remain what you are as long as you live. Seize it and you may do as well as I have."
Hastings smiled faintly.
"I'm very sorry, sir," he repeated. "I'm grateful to you for your interest; but—I hope you'll excuse me—I wouldn't change places with you for a million dollars! No—not for ten million!"
He blurted out the last two sentences like a schoolboy, standing and twisting his notebook between his fingers.
There was something in his tone that dashed my spirits like a bucket of cold water. He had not meant to be impertinent. He was the most truthful man alive. What did he mean? Not willing to change places with me! It was my turn to flush.
"Oh, very well!" I answered in as indifferent a manner as I could assume. "It's up to you. I merely meant to do you a good turn. We'll think no more about it."
I continued to think about it, however. Would not change places with me—a fifty-dollar-a-week clerk!