"They don't look very well," said Jack, with a downward look.
"As you may be taken for my son," said Mark gravely, "I want you to look well."
"You're only a boy!" said Jack, who was inclined to a literal understanding of what was told him.
"You wouldn't take me for twenty-five, then, Jack?"
"No, you're not that, are you?"
"Well, not quite."
They had not far to go to a shoe store, but it took some time to get fitted to a pair of shoes, on account of Jack's having a high instep. This delay came near wrecking their plans. Tim Roach, who usually passed his time in roaming about the streets, without any special occupation, caught sight of Jack as he entered the shoe store with Mark. He let his eye rest upon him carelessly at first, but his indifferent glance was soon succeeded by a look of the most intense amazement.
"My eye!" he exclaimed, "if that isn't little Jack dressed out like a prince! What's happened, I wonder, and who's that with him? I jest wish he'd rig me out that way."
Tim did not make himself known, but peered curiously in at the door of the store.
"I wonder whether Peggy knows about it?" he soliloquized. "I don't believe she does. Wouldn't she open her eyes to see the kid rigged out that way. I'd like to tell her."