“I'm glad you think so,” she said, seriously.
“Are you?”
“Yes,” she said. Then she nodded twice.
“Good-by!” He shook hands, unaware that he was pressing hers too tightly for comfort.
“Good-by and—good luck!” she said, earnestly.
“That means getting back to New York,” said Rivington. “Why don't you try for the selling agency here, you idiot?”
“No,” said Tommy, frowning as he thought of the new reason, “it means my making good in Dayton.”
And from Sherry's he went straight to the station and bought his railroad ticket for Dayton. He would leave that same night.
From the ticket-office he went home to pack. His father was in the library reading his newspaper. The little parlor on the first floor was a much more comfortable room, but Mr. Leigh religiously did all his reading in the library by the table whereon were the family Bible, the ivory paper-cutter, and the fading photograph of his wife in its silver frame.
The old man nodded gravely as Tommy entered. “Were you more successful to-day, Thomas?” he asked, calmly.