“Sixty dollars! Why—why, it only cost that much when it was new!” ejaculated Tom.
“Sixty-four and a half, son. He’d have paid a hundred, I guess, if I’d asked it. He’s losing that much every day for the want of it. Oh, he was tickled enough to get it for sixty! There’s no kick coming from him. And I guess you’re not kicking either, are you?”
“No, sir! I—I’m awfully much obliged. If you don’t mind, Mr. Cummings, I’d like you to take out that four and a half.”
“Commission, eh? Nonsense, Tom; we don’t want that four-fifty. We’ve more than got our money back on it, son. You want to remember that that pump didn’t cost us sixty-four and a half, not by fifteen dollars and more. We’re satisfied. He’s going to mail his check for the money. What shall I do with it—endorse it over to you or give you the money?”
“I guess—I guess you might just endorse it, sir. I think I’ll start a bank account with that!”
“A good idea, son, a mighty good idea. Take it over to the Trust Company and they’ll give you four per cent. on it. Nothing like having a savings account, Tom.”
Tom told Sidney of his good fortune at lunch hour and Sidney smote him triumphantly on the back, inducing a severe cough. “Now,” cried Sidney, “you can afford to give up your job and pitch for us!”
“Do what?” gasped Tom.
“Why, leave the store and come out for the team! What’s to prevent you now?”
“Say, Sid, how long do you suppose sixty dollars would last if I had to pay for my room and meals out of it?”