“Yes, that’s so. Do you expect to get rich soon?”
“You won’t repeat it if I tell you something, will you?”
“No.”
“You mustn’t breathe a word of it, for it’s a secret. When I am twenty-one, old Craven is going to take me into partnership.”
“Is he?” said Joshua, looking at his companion with new respect. “Does he make much money?”
“Made fifteen thousand dollars last year. Half of that’ll be pretty nice for me, won’t it?”
I need not remark that Sam Crawford had told two most unblushing falsehoods. He had grossly exaggerated the profits of the establishment, and, moreover, Mr. Craven was no more likely to take him into partnership than I am to be appointed prime minister to the Emperor of Japan. But he had a purpose to serve in imposing upon his companion’s credulity.
“You’re in luck, Sam,” said Joshua. “Do you think I’ll ever get such a chance?”
“I think you can, with my influence,” said Sam, loftily. “I’ll do my best for you.”
Here a car came along, and the two jumped on board.