The crowd began to disperse, and Mr. Sandow, with a spiteful look at Tom, hurried off up the street.
“He acts as though he had a grudge against me,” thought Tom. “I wonder why?”
“There!” exclaimed Dr. Spidderkins, “my brother-in-law has gone off, without giving me a cent of money, and I want to buy this book. What shall I do? Oh, my memory is getting something very bad! I shall have to get a secretary.”
“I’d lend the money to you, only I haven’t any,” said Tom. “I’m to get fifty cents for delivering this bundle, but I won’t have that until I return.”
“I’ll take the will for the deed,” replied the old doctor, with a twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps the bookseller will trust me, or hold the book for me.”
The proprietor of the store, who had been in the rear, and had not noticed the commotion in front of his place, now came out as he saw a possible customer. He at once recognized Dr. Spidderkins, who was a well-known character in the book stores of the entire city. The man at once agreed to let the physician take the book home, and pay for it when he liked. He even loaned him some money for car fare, since the first five cents he had paid a conductor, on leaving home, had been all the cash available.
Now that everything was satisfactorily adjusted Tom hurried off with the books. He delivered them safely, received his money, and arranged to call the following day, to see if there were any errands he might do. As he was starting toward home, for it was so late that he did not believe it worth while to look any farther for work that day, he was hailed by Charley Grove.
“Hello, Tom,” called his chum. “I thought you were comin’ over and see a fellow.”
“I meant to, some evening, Charley, but I had to work late around Christmas time, and since then I’ve been looking for a place, and I haven’t had much time.”
“What’s the matter; did you get discharged?”