“Thank you,” was the modest reply. “Then if you think it would look right, and you really want me, I will take the position.”
“Of course we can get hundreds and thousands of boys, but I have taken a liking to you. When can you commence?”
“I can commence this morning, if you wish me to,” said Felix.
“Very well, I wish you would—er, that is if you feel able. I notice your face is swollen, and perhaps you are not feeling well.”
“Oh, that will not bother me,” replied Mortimer, coolly. “I had a tooth filled yesterday, and have got cold in my jaw.”
“You must suffer with it. It is swollen badly and looks red and angry,” said the banker sympathetically.
“It does hurt a good deal, but will not trouble me about my work.”
“It looks as if the skin had been injured—more like a bruise, as if you had received a heavy blow on your jaw,” said Mr. Goldwin, examining the swelling more closely.
Felix colored perceptibly, but immediately rallied, and said the poulticing had given it that appearance.
Could Mr. Goldwin have known the truth about this injured jaw, he would have been paralyzed at the bold falsehood of the young villain before him.