“It's lucky that a fellow like you lost that money, and not a poor beggar like me,” remarked Smithers, who was standing on the outer edge of the gathering. Henning looked sharply at the speaker:
“Why?”he asked.
“Simply because a fellow like you who always has plenty of money will find no difficulty in replacing that which is gone. Such a thing would be impossible for impecunious me,” and the speaker turned his empty trousers' pockets inside out, and spun around on his heel. A few laughed, but the majority were silent, not liking the clownish exhibition of bad taste.
Henning was, naturally under the circumstances, in a nervous condition. He at once suspected that this Smithers was merely the spokesman of many others, and that he was expressing their sentiments as to what his line of action should be. Whether he acted judiciously or not in this immature stage of developments, we leave to subsequent events to determine. He replied, and rather warmly, too:
“I don't know so much about that, Smithers. It may turn out to be the misfortune of all, at least of all who contributed. I really do not remember whether you gave anything or not. I shall certainly not make up the loss unless the President fully convinces me that I am under obligation to do so. I am going to see him now. Even should he decide against me I do not know whether I shall be able to replace the money.”
A faint murmur of surprise and dissatisfaction, Henning was convinced, ran through the increasing group, as he, in company with Bracebridge, moved away toward the President's office.
The two walked slowly away from the crowd of boys. Bracebridge appeared to be thinking deeply. He had something to say, but hesitated to say it. Ambrose, with the instincts of a born gentleman, was always extremely careful of the feelings of others.
“Roy,”
“Yes.”