“Yes, sir.”
“Now I’m going to change my tune.”
I jumped up excitedly.
“Yes, change my tune,” he said. “You’re wasting time now. What do you say after thinking it over?—like to come?”
“May I, sir?” I cried joyfully.
“I’m a man of my word, my boy,” he replied drily.
“Oh! thank you, sir!” I cried. “I shall always be grateful to you for this, and—”
“Gently, gently,” he said, interrupting me. “Never promise too much. Acts are better than words, my boy. There!—good-bye! See you soon, I suppose?”
I would have gone with him then, but he told me to take things coolly and get what I wanted packed up.
“Why, Grant, my boy,” he said, laughing, “you’ll have to look over the loading of some of my carts when I’m not there; and if you do them in that hurried fashion how will it be done?”