“Well, well, Joan, his head will make up for his shoulders, you know that very well, and he must have all the help he needs, let Aleck go when he will. Perhaps he’ll be picking up a junior partner for himself after he comes to be owner of the whole thing, and that wont take so many years either, eh, little man?” and the doctor gave Thorndyke a look that wasn’t at all ashamed to show how he felt about the matter, at least.
Business hours were early at the Fenimores’, too, and Tom was at his post as usual, other people would have said, but for himself, he could hardly have been sure whether he was there or not; he seemed to be walking in a maze, some terrible dream of perplexity and desperate resolve, and it grew darker and heavier as the hours wore on.
“Mixed up” with Davis and his associates? One of them to all intents and purposes? Did Davis dare say that? And if Davis could pretend to a claim on him he would push it to the utmost, Tom knew.
Then why shouldn’t he let them have the signature if they wanted it, and if that was the only way out of trouble on every side? A whole life in that store was worse than a hundred deaths, and if Davis should give him shares in a “handsome thing,” as he called it, he might go to the ends of the earth, and have money to send back to those that needed it. And after all, could a real thief feel much more miserable and low than Hal had always kept him since they first came together?
He passed heavily by the counting-room as the hours drew to a close, and started as he heard the senior Fenimore’s voice calling “Haggarty!”
Was the truth discovered? Was there any way in which Davis would dare play him false and betray him as “mixed up” with his own companions?
“Why, what is the matter with you?” asked Mr. Fenimore, as Tom’s white face answered the summons. “Are you sick to-day?”
“No, I am not sick,” said Tom. “I was up rather late last night, it is true.”
“Well, take care of yourself to-night, then; you don’t look right; but just step in here a moment, if you please. I want to be out for perhaps a quarter of an hour, if you can remain here. Perhaps you can finish looking over these letters, and make some minutes of them.”
Tom sat down and leaned his head upon his hands. What was the matter with it? It throbbed and whirled strangely.