Rivington, who had heard his father's decision, broke in cheerfully: “Market must have gone against you to-day, father. Tommy will come again when you have gathered in the unearned increment.”
“Hang it,” said the colonel, irascibly, to his only son, “will you ever be serious—”
“No use getting angry, dad. I'll bring Tommy round to-morrow and the day after, and so on. There is more labor involved in our daily trips than in signing one check. In the mean time he is dining with us to-night at home. We expect you to be there. And in case you change your mind—Ah, be a sport, dad! Consider what you owe me!”
“What?”
“When I think of what I might have cost you I am astonished at my moderation.”
Rivington and his father, as a matter of fact, were as chummy as a fond father and a lighthearted boy full of irresponsibility are bound to be. Colonel Willetts more than once had blessed Rivington's moderation when he thought of Rivington's temptations, but he had never thought very seriously of teaching his son to resist temptation. He turned to Tommy and said:
“If you take him away and make a man of him, I'll take the stock at your own price, Tommy. But look here, my boy, you must learn the first lesson of a business man, and that is not to be disappointed when things don't come your way. It's friends you want, isn't it, among your stockholders?”
“Yes, sir.” And Tommy smiled bravely.
“Well, I'll take one hundred shares each for Rivington and Marion. I guess you can count on their proxies forever. It isn't a bad start. If your other friends will do as much you are fixed. I wish you luck.”
“Come on, Thomas, we'll call again under more propitious circumstances. Good day, sir.” And Rivington saluted his father militarily and escorted Tommy from the office.