“I wonder what they're up to,” said the little telegraph boy to himself. “I know one of them fellers is a gambler. Wonder who that feller with him is? Them must be gov'ment bonds.”
Johnny Cavanagh was an observing boy, and mentally photographed upon his memory the faces of the entire group, though he never expected to see any of them again.
When Grant was hurrying through Wall Street about noon he came upon Tom Calder and Morrison.
“Hello, there, Grant,” said Tom, placing his hand upon his shoulder.
“What's the matter, Tom? I'm in a hurry,” said Grant.
“Jim Morrison's got a little business for you.”
“What is it?”
“He wants you to sell gov'ment bonds for him.”
“You'd better take them round to our office.”
“I haven't got time,” said Morrison. “Just attend to them, like a good fellow, and I'll give you a dollar for your trouble.”