"For a Fortune, write to
"E. H. Harris & Co.,
"Baltimore, Md."
Bob read these mysterious words over several times, but failed to understand them. "I don't exactly see through it," said he.
"Don't you?" exclaimed Tom. "Well, I do. It's simple enough: it means that if you want to make a rich man of yourself, all you have to do is to write to those gentlemen in Baltimore. I answered their advertisement, and see here what they sent me in reply."
Tom again looked up and down the beach—for he was very much afraid that some one might approach them unobserved, and thus gain a knowledge of his secret—and then produced a letter from his pocket-book. It must have contained some very valuable information, for, as he slowly unfolded it, he became so excited that he could scarcely stand still.
"Just think of it, Bob!" he exclaimed, in a suppressed whisper: "here we are, two boys, only fifteen years' old, and rich already. We have made it all ourselves, too."
"We!" repeated the fisher-boy, in surprise. "Am I rich?"
"Of course you are! You'll bear half the expenses, and I'll divide the profits with you."
Bob shook his head. "If there are any expenses about it," said he, "you might as well count me out. Fifteen dollars are all I have in the world. I've worked hard for that, and I can't spend it foolishly."
"Now, just look here, Bob!" said Tom, placing his hands behind him, and turning his head on one side, as he had often seen his father do when arguing with a person, "who asked you to spend your money foolishly? You'll never make a business man in the world, if you act this way. You have never worked in a commission office, but I have, and I ought to know something. If you were certain that, by investing five of your fifteen dollars, you could make—make—let me see! A half of five thousand is how much?"