"Why wasn't I satisfied with the five dollars?" he asked himself. "Confound that young bell-boy! He has spoiled my game. But for him I would be able to live in clover for a couple of months."
The farmer started on his return to Orange County in the afternoon. Before going he handed Rupert a ten-dollar bill.
The bell-boy was surprised. He knew nothing of Mr. Darke's recommendation, and did not expect such liberality from Ezekiel Onthank, whom he looked upon as a poor man.
"I don't think I ought to take it, Mr. Onthank," he said.
"You needn't hesitate, sonny. I can afford it. I don't wear as good clothes as the young sprig that tried to swindle me, but I ain't a poor man by no means. If you ever have time to pay me a visit in Orange County I'll make you welcome and see that you have a good time."
"Thank you, Mr. Onthank. If I should hear of a good situation for your son I will let you know, and I won't charge a hundred and fifty dollars for it, either. I haven't got an office in Wall Street, though."
"That was a good joke. That 'ere Clayton was a pooty smart rascal, after all."
"Ho, ho!" laughed the farmer.
"Shall you invite him to visit you in Orange County, Mr. Onthank?"
"I guess he wouldn't accept. We live plain, and he's a rich Wall Street broker. But we'll be glad to see you at any time."