“I suppose,” said Billy, assuming a business tone, “that you’re a friend back again, aren’t you, Mr. Murphy?”
Unconsciously sitting straighter in his chair, he answered, “I’m not altogether clear as to your meaning, William.”
“You told me yourself, Mr. Murphy,” said Billy, still speaking very firmly, “that Mr. Prescott is a friend to every man in the mill. Aren’t you a friend back again?”
“I am,” answered the timekeeper emphatically. “You may depend on me in all weathers, even to sitting out here in the sun.”
“Then,” said Billy, “you and I, Mr. Murphy, are both friends, on our honor as gentlemen—that’s what my father used to say.”
“I am,” answered Thomas Murphy.
Just then they heard the honk, honk of Mr. Prescott’s machine, and Billy stood carefully aside for him to pass.
Mr. Prescott, who was alone, said:
“Things all right, Thomas? Jump in, William.”
Billy, surprised beyond words, obeyed.