“Oh, that’s the trouble, is it? It isn’t want of inclination, but a lack of means. Is that it?”
“That’s just the way the matter stands,” answered Guy.
“Then I ask your pardon,” said Mr. Jones, grasping Guy’s hand and shaking it cordially. “I misunderstood you. But are you really out of money?” he added, with a look of surprise, although he knew very well that Guy was penniless, and had been for weeks.
“I haven’t a red,” was the despairing reply.
“Don’t let it trouble you. I can remedy that.”
“You can!” exclaimed Guy, astonished and delighted.
“Of course. I earn three or four thousand every year, outside of my commission, and in an hour I can explain the mode of operating, so that you can do the same.”
“And will you?” asked Guy.
“I will, I assure you. Harris, when I am a friend to a man I am a friend all over. And what is the use of my professing to think so much of you if I am not willing to prove it?”
“You are a friend, indeed,” returned Guy with enthusiasm, “and if you will help me out of this scrape I will never go in debt again as long as I live.”