"Yes," said Tom, surprised at the gentleman's tone.
In his surprise he looked up into his customer's face, and for the first time took notice of it. This was what he saw: a square face, with a heavy lower jaw, grizzled whiskers, and cold, gray eyes. But there was something besides that served to distinguish it from other faces—a scar, of an inch in length, on his right cheek, which, though years old, always looked red under excitement.
"Grey," repeated the stranger. "Is your father living?"
"I don't know," said Tom. "If he is, he's too busy to call round and see me."
"You mean that you don't know anything about your father?"
"That's about so," said Tom. "I'm ready to adopt a rich gentleman as a father, if it's agreeable."
And he looked up with a smile in the face of his customer.
But the latter did not respond to the joke, but looked more and more serious.
"That smile," he said to himself. "He is wonderfully like. Is it possible that this boy can be——"
But here he stopped, and left the sentence unfinished.