"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb, with great interest.
"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into shape to do small work. I have most of the tools, and would only need a lathe and one or two other things--that I could get second-hand."
"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's conclusion; "to-morrow morning, go down to the bank and draw out seventy-five dollars. Then we'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and try your luck."
"Yes, but----"
"No buts, Jack; I'm willing to put up with whatever comes--bad luck as well as good. I'm sure you'll succeed."
"If your good wishes count for anything, I certainly shall," exclaimed Jack, earnestly. "I think I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month, or, maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with living rooms attached, which would be cheaper than hiring two places."
"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't have to go so far for dinner, and I could attend to customers while you were away."
The pair talked in this strain for over an hour. His sister's sanguine way of looking at the matter made the young machinist feel as if perhaps the shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and might prove the turning point to something better than they had ever before known.
The next morning, for the first time in several years, Jack had breakfast late. It was soon over, and then he put on his good clothes and started for the bank.
The streets were thronged with idle men. The Corney Tool Company employed nearly a thousand persons--in fact, it was by far the principal factory in the place--and to have all these employes thrown out of work was a calamity discussed by everyone.