“I did.”
“Well, I have not received the letter. I have just returned from Washington, and no doubt I shall find it waiting for me at home. Where are you stopping, gentlemen? At the Olive Street House, eh? You must permit me to take charge of you now, and to say that you shall not stop at a hotel any longer. I will call a carriage presently and take you home with me. I know that Mollie will be glad to have you come, Rufus—she’s my wife, you know, Mr. Whitney, Benjamin’s sister—for it is fully two years since she has seen you.”
The conversation thus commenced continued for a quarter of an hour. Mr. Jones was in no hurry to begin his business operations, for Guy was playing a part that was entirely new to him, and he was afraid to trust him. In a few minutes, however, he had learned a good deal of Whitney’s history and habits, and having satisfied himself that he was a good subject to operate upon, he gave Guy the signal, and the latter prepared for action.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE PARTNERS IN ACTION.
“ROBINSON,” said Guy, after a preliminary cough and a desperate attempt to subdue his increasing excitement, “I understood you a while ago to say that you have just returned from Washington. You went there on some business connected with politics, I suppose?”
“Oh, no,” replied Mr. Jones. “I don’t trouble my head about politics. I have always made my living honestly, and I always intend to do so. I went there to take out a patent on a recent invention of mine.”
“What is it?” inquired Mr. Whitney, with some eagerness. “I am interested in every new invention, for I do a little business in that line myself sometimes. I own the rights for several washing-machines, pumps, and scissor-sharpeners in our county.”
“And this is just what you need to complete your list,” said Mr. Jones. “It is a fine thing, and is bound to make somebody independently rich one of these days. You know, Rufus, that about a year ago I wrote you that my store had been entered by burglars, who broke open my safe and robbed it of six thousand dollars.”