“Hurrah!” shouted the merchant, dashing to the floor the cards he held. This movement eliciting an angry protest from the table, Tramlay picked up the cards, thrust them into the hand of a lounger, said, “Play my hand for me.—Gentlemen, I must beg you to excuse me: sudden and important business,” seized his hat, and hurried Phil to the street, exclaiming,—
“Sure there is no mistake about it? It seems too good to be true.”
“There’s no mistake about this,” Phil replied, taking a letter from his pocket. The merchant hurried to the nearest street-lamp, looked at the written order, and said,—
“My boy, your fortune is made. Do you realize what a great stroke of business this is?”
“I hope so,” said Phil.
“What do you want me to do for you? Name your terms or figures.”
Phil was silent, for the very good reason that he did not know how to say what was in his heart.
“Suppose I alter my sign to Tramlay & Hayn, and make you my equal partner?”
Still Phil was silent.
“Well,” said the merchant, “it seemed to me that was a fair offer; but if it doesn’t meet your views, speak out and say what you prefer.”