“That’s the talk!” cried Phil, enthusiastically. “Just make a nice spread of it, and you can have all our trade in the future.”
“You’ll be well pleased,” answered Jason Sparr.
“Can we have a private dining-room?”
“To be sure—the blue room over yonder,” and the hotel man showed the boys the apartment.
“I want some flowers, too,” said Phil. “You can put two dollars’ worth of roses on the table.”
“Very well—that will make an even twenty dollars.”
“When do you want me to pay?”
“Such spreads are usually paid for in advance,” answered Jason Sparr, shrewdly. He did not intend to take any chances with schoolboys.
“All right, here is your money,” answered the shipowner’s son, and brought forth one of the two crisp twenty-dollar bills his father had mailed to him, with the good news of his fortune.
“Tell him about the music,” suggested Ben.