“Yes, you are the man for the job,” said Shealey, "none better. Won't you take it? You can do ten times more with the boys than either Jack or myself.”
“I don't know——” hesitated Henning, for several reasons.
“Oh, yes, you do, Roy,”urged Jack. “You are a capital beggar, you know, and with your own big donation at the head of the list you will be irresistible.”
“Call him a good solicitor,” laughed Shealey, “it's more euphonious.”
“I think I can act as treasurer and secretary for you, if the boys are willing. It is the least I can do if I don't play.”
“Of course it is. Thanks. That's good of you," said Beecham, and Shealey nodded approvingly.
“Now, Roy, how much shall I put you down for before I hand over to you the subscription list? Twenty is too much, I suppose,” said Shealey.
Roy looked out of the window in a perplexed sort of way. He had always been a liberal contributor. What would his friends think of him now? The paternal test was certainly a hard one in more ways than one.
“I am afraid I shall disappoint you,” he said.