“According to this,” observed Bobby with great show of wisdom, “I take over the business in a very flourishing condition.”
“Well,” grudgingly admitted Mr. Johnson, “it might be worse.”
“It could hardly be better,” interposed Applerod—“that is, without the extensions and improvements that I think your father would have come in time to make. Of course, at his age he was naturally a bit conservative.”
“Mr. Applerod and myself have never agreed upon that point,” wheezed Johnson sharply. “For my part I considered your father—well, scarcely reckless, but, say, sufficiently daring! Daring is about the word.”
Bobby grinned cheerfully.
“He let the business go rather by its own weight, didn’t he?”
Both gentlemen shook their heads, instantly and most emphatically.
“He certainly must have,” insisted Bobby. “As I recollect it, he only worked up here, of late years, from about eleven fifty-five to twelve every other Thursday.”
“Oftener than that,” solemnly corrected the literal Mr. Johnson. “He was here from eleven until twelve-thirty every day.”
“What did he do?”