Armstrong contrived to force a smile at this ironic pleasantry of his master's. He instantly saw Josiah's scheme—to have the young man inducted into the business; presently to give him the dignity and honor of the presidency, ejecting Armstrong, perhaps in discredit to justify the change and to make it impossible for him to build up in another company.
"You'll do what you can to teach him the ropes?"
"Certainly," said Armstrong, at the window.
Fosdick came up close to him, put his hand affectionately on his shoulder. "You've grown into my heart, Horace. I feel as if you were another son of mine, as if Hugo were your younger brother. I want you to regard him as such. I'm old; I'll soon be off the boards. I like to think of you two young fellows working together in harmony. It may be that——"
Armstrong had himself well within the harness now. He looked calmly at Fosdick and saw a twinkle in those good-natured, wicked eyes of his, a warning that he had guessed Armstrong's suspicion and was about to counter with something he flattered himself was particularly shrewd.
"It may be I'll want your present place for the boy, after a few years. Perhaps it will be better not to put him there; again it may be a good thing. If I decide to do it, you'll have a better place—something where there'll be an even bigger swing for your talents. I'll see to that. I charge myself with your future."
Armstrong turned away, bringing his jaws together with a snap.
"You trust me, don't you?" said Fosdick, not quite certain that Armstrong had turned to hide an overmastering emotion of gratitude.
"I'd advise against making Hugo a vice-president just at present," said Armstrong.
"Why?" demanded Fosdick with a frown.