Phil resumed his seat.
“What is the interest of eight hundred and forty-five dollars and sixty cents for four years, three months and twelve days, at eight and one-half per cent?”
Phil's pen moved fast in perfect silence for five minutes. Then he announced the result.
“Let me look at the paper. I will soon tell you whether it is correct.”
After a brief examination, for the old gentleman was himself an adept at figures, he said, with a beaming smile:
“It is entirely correct. You are a smart boy.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Phil, gratified.
“And you deserve a good place—better than you will probably get.”
Phil listened attentively. The last clause was not quite so satisfactory.
“Yes,” said Mr. Carter, evidently talking to himself, “I must get Pitkin to take him.”