“It’s hard to part with so much money,” said he to his wife. “But there seems no help for it.”
The crushed foot was mending slowly, but it was evident that it would be many days before the sufferer would be able to walk upon it once more.
“You will have to give it time,” said the physician. “If you do not you may be a cripple for life.” And a specialist who was called in gave the same advice.
Two days after mailing his letter, Frank received a reply from Philip Vincent. It was short and to the point. In it the book publisher said:
“I am perfectly willing to give you all the chance possible if you wish to make the trial. But let me remind you that you can only win out by doing your very best and sticking at it. It is bound to be more or less discouraging at the start. If you wish to take hold, come to New York soon, for I leave for Boston before long.”
“I like that letter,” was Mr. Hardy’s comment. “There is no nonsense about it. Some publishers would make an agent believe that all he had to do was to go out and coin money.”
“Can I go to New York to-morrow, father?” asked Frank, anxiously.
“If you wish.”
“Yes, I want to get at work just as soon as I can.”
“Very well. I will give you the necessary money.”