"Thank you, I am doing well enough," said Pickering, with his best society manner on, and extending his hand, "much obliged, I'm sure; what I should have done without you, I don't know, of course; send in your bill, and I shall be only too happy to make it all right."
Jack Loughead rushed up to Polly. "No one told me—is your arm—" he couldn't say "broken," being quite beyond control of himself.
"How are you, Mr. Loughead?" said old Mr. King rather stiffly, at being overlooked, and putting out his courtly old hand.
"Oh, beg pardon." Jack mumbled something about being an awkward fellow at the best, and extended a shaking hand.
"You are anxious to see your uncle, of course," continued the old gentleman, leading off down the hall, "this way, Mr. Loughead."
"Of course, yes, indeed," stammered Jack Loughead, having nothing to do but to follow.
CHAPTER XIV.
JOEL.
Joel threw down his books in an uneasy way. "I must give it up; there's no other way," he exclaimed.
"Halloo, Joe!"