“No. A good deal, no doubt; but I have all that money to come when I am of age, and there is Harry’s. There ought to be no difficulty about the executors advancing what is required.”
“Bob and your humble servant being the said executors,” said the professor. “Of course not; but I did not mean money, Frank, I meant life. It would cost yours.”
“Well, I am ready to spend it,” said the youth warmly, “so long as I can save my brother’s.”
“Hah!” sighed the doctor.
“That’s very nicely spoken, Frank,” said the professor, leaning forward to pat the young fellow on the arm, “but it’s all sentiment.”
“Sentiment?”
“Yes, and we want hard, matter-of-fact stuff. Now look at me.”
“Well, I am looking at you,” said Frank, half angrily.
“What do I look like?”
“Do you want the truth?”