“And then there’s him as ought to ha’ been the worst of all you three. He got burnt a deal, but it was mostly about the clothes. The padding in his uniform seemed to save him. I say—what are you going to do with yourself to-day?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me give you a shampoo and a touch up.”
Dick shook his head impatiently, and lay back, a shadow of his former self.
“You’d better!”
“Don’t worry me, Jerry! You said you had some news.”
“It’s a letter,” said the man, looking at him curiously.
“A letter?” cried Dick, starting; but the interest he took was only momentary, and his eyes half-closed again.
“Yes, a letter. I’ve had it two days, and didn’t like to give it to you before.”
“Why not?”