“Would you do it if you were in my shoes?”
“Absolutely––provided you were in mine.”
Henry laughed. “Well, Mr. Bones, what is the answer?”
“Why––this may do you some good. That is, if you let me manage it for you. But suppose it’s immaterial. Suppose you run out your string, and win or lose, you know what’s on the docket for you, don’t you? If you want it?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve had one or two things put up to me.”
“Forget ’em.” Standish pointed at the wall. “Nice new mahogany flat-topped desk right there.”
Henry’s mouth relaxed. “Why––Bob.”
As Standish gazed at him, no observer would have said that this immature-looking boy was rated in the highest group of local businessmen. 267 To a stranger, the offer might have seemed insignificant, even humorously insignificant; but to Henry it was stupendous, and for two widely varying reasons.
“Just to think over,” said Standish. “In case.”
Henry’s fists were doubled. “It isn’t so much the ... the commercial side of it, Bob, but when I know you’ve always had me down for such an incompetent sort of––”