“I was about to make a proposal to you. But first let me ask you about your education. I suppose you are not an accomplished scholar?”
“I’m about as ignorant as they make ’em,” answered Dodger, drolly. “Tim was afraid to send me to college, for fear I’d get to know too much for my business.”
“Tending bar does not require an acquaintance with Latin and Greek. Would you like to know more?”
“I wish I did. Florence was teaching me nights when I was in New York. Now I’ve got to give up all that.”
“Not necessarily. Listen to me, Arthur. Before I came to New York to go into journalism, I taught school for two years; and I believe I may say that I was tolerably successful. Suppose I take you as a scholar?”
“I should like it very much, Mr. Leslie, but I’m afraid I haven’t got money enough to pay you.”
“That is true. You will need all the money you have when you land in California. Twenty-five dollars won’t go far—still you have all the money that is necessary, for I do not intend to charge you anything.”
“You are very kind to me, Mr. Leslie, considerin’ you don’t know me,” said Dodger, gratefully.
“On the contrary, I think I know you very well. But about the kindness—my motives are somewhat mixed. I should like to do you a service, but I should also like to find employment for myself that will make the days less monotonous. I have a collection of books in my trunk, enough for our needs, and if you will agree we will commence our studies to-morrow.”
“I should like it very much. I’d like to show Florence, when I see her, that I have improved. Till I saw her I didn’t care much, but when I talk with her I feel awfully ignorant.”