"I should think he would prefer to speak indoors a night like this," remarked the banker.
The speaker's subject was an old one, old as the tree of Eden, but never had the two newcomers heard a more effective speech. Perhaps the setting of the bleak, deserted market-place created an illusion.
"That man is getting rich," he cried, "who can every day add a little to the surplus in his heart——"
"What interest do you pay?" called out a bystander facetiously.
"None," replied the young man. "Ours is a profit-sharing enterprise."
"That don't mean anything," commented Mr. Wattles; "but it was a first-rate answer all the same. It made the people laugh."
"I wonder why?" demanded Mr. Clatfield.
The discourse ended presently and the audience dispersed, some with swinging dinner-pails and some with thin coats buttoned tightly at the neck.
"It does a fellow good to hear the world ain't going to the dogs," remarked a burly laborer, "even if it is just a crank who says it."
"Good-evening," said the young man, jumping from his dray and landing within speaking distance of the two adventurers. "I'm glad to see you here."