“Better take that bill down to the senior,” he said. “Illinois is a great state; perhaps he’d like to send you out there to establish a branch.”
Tom’s memory suddenly ran back, he didn’t stop to ask how, to a certain night, years ago, when he sat over his game of chess under Hal’s gaslight, and the same miserable feeling that had sent him home so fast that evening hugged him tight as he went down to the counting-room to have things set right if there was any way to do it. He remembered in what a hurry he had tucked himself away under his blankets that night; but there was no such skulking to be done now; he had got to face things the best way he could.
And he could face almost anything if people only wouldn’t say something disagreeable about it! He supposed it was ridiculous, but it was no use; he would rather any one would knock him down any day. Well, he must try to keep out of Hal’s way for a few days; that was all that could be done this time.
But that was of no use either. Hal stood square in the doorway, with two or three clerks at his side, the next morning, and the very first salute was, “How’s Illinois this morning? Suppose we give three cheers for the Hoosier state?”
For one moment Tom felt as if he could have knocked somebody down; but that wasn’t like Tom, and was gone again as quickly as it came, only the old forlornness that had come to be almost an everyday thing since he came into the store, stuck by.
The last straw breaks the camel’s back, and this time Tom found himself getting desperate. He pushed past Hal, and made his way to his post, but he was thankful enough that no important business came to him that day; he should have made worse work of it than yesterday, for his only thought was how to get out of it altogether, a thousand miles away if he could, he didn’t care where or what became of him afterwards, if only he need never see Hal again! And he would get away! Hal was to be junior partner himself soon, and things would be worse than ever, and even if the day should ever come when the firm kept their promise to Mr. Willoughby, Hal would be above him still; and for ever, so far as he could see. He would rather earn his living with a pick-axe, if he could only be left to feel like a man while he carried it on his shoulder.
“Don’t care what becomes of you, Tom Haggarty! All very well, but what is going to become of the rest waiting for you at home?” whispered something in his ear.
Ah, there it was, and it always came round to that again, no matter what desperate resolves he took up for a moment.