“Certainly; I should like to see you getting on. There isn’t much chance of that if you don’t know how to read and write.”
“You’re a good feller,” said Dick, gratefully. “I wish you did live in New York. I’d like to know somethin’. Whereabouts do you live?”
“About fifty miles off, in a town on the left bank of the Hudson. I wish you’d come up and see me sometime. I would like to have you come and stop two or three days.”
“Honor bright?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you mean it?” asked Dick, incredulously.
“Of course I do. Why shouldn’t I?”
“What would your folks say if they knowed you asked a boot-black to visit you?”
“You are none the worse for being a boot-black, Dick.”
“I aint used to genteel society,” said Dick. “I shouldn’t know how to behave.”