“Thank you, sir. I will bid you good-by, with thanks for your kindness.”
“If you are not pressed for time, I will send you on an errand.”
“All right, sir. I shall be glad to be of service to you.”
“Here is a Mexican dollar. You may go to the store and bring me a dozen eggs. If there is any change you may keep it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“A dollar in!” thought Burns, as he turned away from the cabin. “I think I can turn it to a better use than spending it in eggs. That was a profitable call. I made a gold watch and a dollar by it. The old man can’t pursue me, thanks to his spinal complaint.”
“That is a very clever fellow,” reflected the old man, when Burns had started on his errand. “A bit too religious to suit my taste. Still he seemed grateful for the little I did for him. If he had a little more push and get up and get about him he would succeed better. Why, he isn’t more than forty and he confesses himself a failure. Why, at forty I considered myself a young man, and was full of dash and enterprise. Now I am sixty and tied to my seat by this spinal trouble. However, I’ve got something laid by, and, old as I am, I feel independent as far as money goes.”
Half an hour—an hour—passed, and still the old man found himself alone. His messenger had not come back.
But there came up the path a tall, muscular figure, who greeted the old man in a bluff, off-hand way.
“How are you, Luke?” said the old man. “I was feeling lonely. I am glad to see you.”