I came in all glowing to Mr. Sant, who greeted my good news with a sigh of such relief that one could have thought a nightmare had rolled off his chest.
“We have him,” he said gleefully. “You did very well, Dick; better than I could have told you. And now—h’m!”
He fell into a fit of abstraction, the fruits of which did not appear till the following day. Then, as I was leaving him after lessons, he detained me a moment.
“Are you going to meet him?” he asked.
“Yes, if he will,” I answered.
“Then,” he said, “tell him that if he likes, and can obtain his mother’s consent, he can come here with you for the future instead of going to school.”
I could only breathe a great round “O!” of rapture.
“Yes,” said Mr. Sant, between relish and severity; “I cannot have so promising a spirit warped by a sense of injustice. He has grit—I must put my foot down—he—yes, tell him I will undertake his education, if he is willing.”
I ran off, big with the delight of my mission; and, sure enough, met Harry loitering near the Playstow by the way I should come, though he would not let me suppose it was intentional. His freckled face flushed as he spied me, and he grinned. There was already observable towards him an attitude of increased respect on the part of some of his schoolfellows who played near.
“Mighty!” he exclaimed, as I accosted him, “Who’d ever a-thought o’ meeting you here!”