"Now don't you get down in the dumps, Jip, 'cause you'll soon pull up where you was before. All that's needed is to go on straight from this out, an' show people you're sorry for meddlin' in such crooked business."
After this attempt at consolation Seth parted with his companions, and ten minutes later was standing before 'Lish Davis on the lower floor of Ninety-four's house.
"Well, what have you done with your firebug?" the driver asked, and such of the men as were idle gathered around to hear the conversation.
"We've shipped Sam Barney, an' Jip's gone down Thirty-fourth Street way sellin' papers."
"Do you allow he'll run straight after this?"
"I'm almost certain of it, Mr. Davis. He feels terrible bad, an' if Sam gives him the chance he'll show that he can be a decent feller."
"I hope so, because I hate to see a boy go wrong. Do you know, Amateur, that what's done while you're young hangs on after you get to be a man. Then, when you're getting along swimmingly, up comes somebody and tells of the mean trick you played when you was a kid. It always counts against a man. Now, I ain't saying that your firebug won't pull out of this, but he's taking the chances that it'll be thrown up in his face a hundred times 'twixt now and the next ten years, however straight he walks. If a boy would only bear that in mind I allow he'd be a heap more careful about what he did. Howsomever, you ain't here for a lecture of that kind, and what's more you don't need one. I allow you're counting on that suit of clothes?"
"I s'posed that was what you wanted me to come for, sir."
"Well, it was, Amateur, it was; and if you'll go upstairs and look on my bed you'll find the togs laid out there. Put 'em on, and come down to show us how you look."
"Are they new clothes, sir?"