Danny, left with Uncle Jim in the Hathaway car, met a twinkle in the older man’s eye that caused him to blush profusely.
“My boy,” said O’Hara, “you have been mighty fine to me. I don’t know what I could have done without you. Nothing, I’m afraid. You deserve a great deal from life, Danny. I’d be the first to admit it. But the chap who wins Mary Louise will be overpaid,—even you, my boy. She is pure gold. I hope you will win.”
Danny had tried to interrupt his uncle’s speech several times, but it was useless. The older man laid an affectionate hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Say nothing about it,” he said. “Words, after all, are but feeble things. It is life alone that counts.”
There were a few minutes of silence before either of the two spoke again. Then O’Hara resumed:
“I want to say just one more thing, Danny, and that concerns my oil well, or, rather, your oil well, for I mean to turn it over to you. When I am free of this trouble, I expect to take personal charge of the well. A few months’ production will suffice to pay all of my debts. Then the well is yours. You will find, my boy, that you will have enough, and more than enough, to live in plenty.”
Tears stood in the young man’s eyes as Uncle Jim made his generous offer.
Then he said:
“No, no, Uncle Jim! I couldn’t think of it! If you will let me take half of the work and responsibility, I’ll share the proceeds with you. But on that condition only, Uncle Jim!”
“Well, well,” said O’Hara. “Have it your own way. We’ll draw up a partnership agreement. There’ll be more than enough room for both of us, I’m sure.”