As he spoke, his brother Jonas came into the room, and the explanation was repeated.
“That’s good,” said Jonas heartily. “You’d better go down to the store after supper, Abner, and tell the boys, for they’ve just heard that Paul Beck can’t come.”
“You just save me some supper, and I’ll go now. The boy’ll stay with us to-night. That’s the bargain I made with him.”
“He’s heartily welcome,” said Jonas Webb, a pleasant-faced man, with sandy complexion, who was probably from two to three years older than his brother. “You’ve happened along just at the right time.”
“I am glad of it,” said Philip; and there is no doubt he was sincere, for we know how much he stood in need of employment, though he naturally did not care to let his new friends know of his destitution.
“My brother didn’t tell me your name,” said Jonas.
“My name is Philip Gray,” answered our hero.
“Do you go round playing for dances?” inquired Jonas.
“I have only just begun.”
Philip didn’t think it necessary to say that the idea of making money in this way had never occurred to him till this very day.