“I don’t care to retire just yet,” said Bernard, smiling.
“I should hope not. Even if you were able to live without work, I would not give much for a boy who would be willing to do so.”
“Next!” announced one of the barbers.
“It is my turn, I believe,” said the old gentleman.
“Can you meet me to-morrow at eleven o’clock at the St. Nicholas Hotel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I may have more to say to you about your affairs. On your father’s account, I take a great interest in you. By the way, don’t say anything to Mr. McCracken about meeting a friend of your father’s.”
“No, sir, I will not.”
The next day Bernard kept his appointment. He had been in the hotel—now torn down—but five minutes, when his acquaintance of the day before made his appearance.
“By the way,” said he, “I forgot to tell you my name.”