“I can’t tell you, Bob; I never heard anybody say,” answered Tom, humbly.
“Well, Tom Flannery, I should think you would find out such things. Don’t you never want to know anything?”
“I ain’t been thinkin’ about Wall Street, and them fellers you speak about, Bob,” apologized Tom. “But I wish you’d tell me about ’em, for I’d like to know how they made their money.”
“Well, I’ll tell you some other time,” said Bob, with assumed ease. As a matter of fact, however, he did not know himself, but was not willing to admit so much to Tom. He therefore decided to change the subject at once before getting cornered.
“Now, Tom,” he continued, “I’ll tell you what it is. I’ve jest thought what we’ll do, you ’n’ me and Herbert.”
“What is it, Bob?”
“Well, you see we got knocked out of our breakfast this morning, Tom, so I think the best thing we can do is to have a big dinner tonight.”
“I think so too, Bob,” said Tom, eagerly.
“You see, ’twould be a celebration of the way we worked the detective business.”
“So ’twould, Bob. That’s a good idea, I think.”