"You ought to be in very easy circumstances," said Grit politely, though it did occur to him to wonder why the owner of a controlling interest in a large woolen mill should be attired in such a rusty suit.
"I am," said the stranger complacently. "Daniel Townsend's income—I am Daniel T., at your service—for last year was twelve thousand three hundred and sixty-nine dollars."
"This gentleman seems very communicative," thought Grit.
"Your income was rather larger than mine," he said.
"Ho, ho! I should say so," laughed Mr. Townsend. "Are you in any business, my young friend?"
"I am connected with navigation," said Grit.
"Indeed?" observed Townsend, appearing puzzled. "Do you find it a paying business?"
"Tolerably so, but I presume woolen manufacturing is better?"
"Just so," assented Townsend, rather absently.
At this point Grit rose from the table, having finished his breakfast.