"Yes, Mr. Fox."
"But how on 'arth——"
Then Harry gave a full explanation, with which I don't propose to trouble the reader, as it would be a twice-told tale.
"Some folks seem born to luck!" said Mr. Fox furiously, when Harry had completed his story. "Joel may work and toil all his life, and he won't get no seven thousand dollars. It seems hard!"
John Fox had been much impressed by Harry's luck, and his avaricious soul was busying itself with some scheme for turning it to his personal advantage.
"I'm glad you've been so lucky, Harry," he said with affected cordiality. "It beats all, I must say. I've no doubt you are ready now to carry out your dear father's dyin' wish."
"What was that, Mr. Fox?"
"He wanted me to be your guardeen. It stands to reason a boy of sixteen aint to be trusted with so much money. Now I'm an experienced man of business, and I'm willin' to be your guardeen, and I won't charge you a cent for takin' care of your property except board money."
"Thank you, Mr. Fox," said Harry, with an amused smile, "but I am offered a place in New York at fifteen dollars a week, and I have friends who will advise me about the investment of my money."
"Fifteen dollars a week!" repeated Mr. Fox dolefully. "Can't you get a place for Joel in the same store?"