"Yes, of course."
He grasped their hands again.
"Boys," he said, choking with emotion, "I–I don't know what to say. God bless me, I don't!" and he jerked out his handkerchief and blew his nose a half dozen times.
"That's all right, Mr. Allison. We want you to grow up with us."
"Call me pop, boys–call me pop after this–as my other children do," and the old fellow had to wipe his eyes and his glasses.
It did the two boys good to watch him. They had touched his heart and the stern old man of business had softened like a woman. But others began to come in. The papers told how the two boys had squeezed some of the strongest men in the street and scooped several hundred thousand dollars of their money, and men who had seen them often before now came in to look at them again. But Fred and Bob were quite busy in their little private office engaged in figuring up the result of the deal, leaving Allison to answer questions and receive congratulations. Over in the Stock Exchange the syndicate was busy trying to save further losses. Bryant was on hand, but Bowles was in the hands of his physician.
"We were betrayed by somebody," Bryant said. "Those boys were posted by somebody in the deal and used as a blind."
"That is a serious charge to make, Bryant," said one of the syndicate, "and we'll have to make an investigation to find out if there is any truth in it. The charge reflects on us all."
"I have no idea who the guilty one is," Bryant replied. "I don't even know that the charge is true; but I believe that we were downed by a conspiracy in which one of the syndicate was engaged. Those boys are not deep enough to do what they did by their own account."
"You forget that Allison is in their employ," said the other.