Mrs. Thatcher repeated the offer which Mr. Simpson had made, and asked: “Shall I accept, Tom?”
“No,” answered Tom, promptly.
“Do you propose to be guided by the advice of this young jackanapes, Mrs. Thatcher?” asked John Simpson, angrily.
“Tom knows more about business than I do.”
“He looks like it—a ragged tramp like him!” said the rich man, with a sneer. “After that display of impudence I refuse altogether to employ him. Now you can do as you please—accept my offer or starve with him.”
“Mother,” said Tom, quietly, “will you be kind enough to leave me alone with Mr. Simpson? I wish to speak to him in private.”
“Certainly, Tom.”
Very much to his surprise, Mr. Simpson found himself left alone with Tom, whose manner was self-possessed and grave.
“What does all this mean?” he asked, imperiously.
“Be patient, Mr. Simpson, I have something to say which you ought to hear. When I was in California I visited a place called Rocky Gulch.”