“What was Jack’s other name?” he asked.
“Jack—Jack—” Geoffrey began, then shook his head hopelessly. “I can’t tell,” he concluded; and Mr. Huntress felt that it only annoyed him, and it would be useless to try to find out anything definite from him, so he let the matter drop.
One day, after Geoffrey had been with the family some three months, he came in from the street looking flushed and angry.
Seeking Gladys he besought her most piteously to teach him to read.
Upon inquiring what prompted the request, she found that Geoffrey had been attracted by a glaring placard that had been pasted up somewhere on a building, and had asked some boys what it was.
This had at once betrayed his woeful ignorance, for if he had even known his letters, he could at least have made out something of the nature of the bill, and they had tormented him unmercifully for being a simpleton.
Gladys at once procured a primer and set herself at work to teach him.
He proved to be a most diligent pupil, with great perseverance and a wonderful power for memorizing, for in a month he had mastered the whole of its contents.
Mr. Huntress was astonished at his progress, and wanted to put him at once into school.
But Geoffrey, who was developing rapidly in every way, shrank from the proposal, and begged his Uncle August, as he had been taught to call Mr. Huntress, to allow him to study at home.