“So he has, in a general way,” replied Herbert, “but I supposed that was just to fill in conversation.”
“A mere matter of curiosity to know how we were doing?”
“Yes.”
“It’s possible, though, that he had other objects in view.”
“Possible, well, yes; but not probable.”
Thus the boys speculated upon Mr. Goldwin’s purpose, as they went about their work—speculated and wondered till they found themselves at his table, where all thought of this character was driven from their minds by the pleasant conversation that followed.
It was only fifteen months before this that two boys met as if by chance in City Hall Park one brisk October morning—one a country lad fresh from the rocky hills of old Vermont, the other a keen eyed, bright faced newsboy of New York. Look at the group around this table, and tell me if you can see these chance acquaintances—the boy whose every act proclaimed him a farmer’s son, or the other—the shabbily dressed product of a metropolitan street. And if perchance by voice or feature you recognize the boy of education and ambition, look again, I urge you, that you may find his friend. “There is but one boy present beside him of the farm,” I hear you say, “and surely it cannot be he, so well dressed and grown so tall, whose language bespeaks a well bred lad.” But look yet once more, I pray you, and behold the sparkle of his eyes, the old time humor playing over his features, and—ah! now he laughs and shows his dimples once again—the same on either cheek reflecting the merriment he feels. You yield at last, puzzled though I know you are, and the question you would put to me—“How came it so, this marvelous change in these two boys?” I will answer—they worked and studied.
bob hunter, the student and young business man.