“How shall we manage?”
The book-keeper took from his pocket a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to John.
“That is Gilbert’s coat,” he said. “Put this bill into one of the pockets.”
John obeyed.
“I guess that will fix him,” he said, in a tone of satisfaction.
“I’ll manage the rest,” said the book-keeper. “Stay round here till Gilbert gets back, and we’ll bring matters to a crisis.”
Just as John was placing the bill in Gilbert’s coat-pocket, the little boot-black mentioned at the close of the last chapter thrust his head into the doorway.
“Shine yer boots?” he asked.
“Clear out, you vagabond!” said the book-keeper, irritably.
Tom, for that was his name, looked inquisitively about him and retired. He saw that there was no chance for business. He recognized John as the one who had kicked him the day before.