“Yes,” said the boy complacently; “if we could sell at that figure, I could pay you back and have two thousand dollars of my own. Think of that, Mr. Melville,” continued Herbert, his eyes glowing with pride and pleasure. “Shouldn't I be a rich boy?”
“You may do even better, Herbert. Don't be in a hurry to sell. That is my advice. If the present favorable indications continue, you may realize a considerably larger sum.”
“So Jack says. He says he is bound to hold on, and hopes I will.”
“You are in luck, Herbert.”
“Yes, Mr. Melville, and I don't forget that it is to you I am indebted for this good fortune,” said the boy, earnestly. “If you hadn't bought the property for me, I could not. I don't know but you ought to get some share ef the profits.”
George Melville shook his head.
“My dear boy,” he said, “I have more than my share of money already. Sometimes I feel ashamed when I compare my lot with others, and consider that for the money I have, I have done no work. The least I can do is to consider myself the Lord's trustee, and do good to others, when it falls in my way.”
“I wish all rich men thought as you do, Mr. Melville; the world would be happier,” said Herbert.
“True, Herbert. I hope and believe there is a considerable number who, like myself, feel under obligations to do good.”
“I shall be very glad, on mother's account, if I can go home with money enough to make her independent of work. By the way, Mr. Melville, I found a letter from mother in the Deer Creek post office. Shall I read it to you?”