“Yes,” Mr. Holden went on, “he’s going to hand the check over next week. Yesterday was the last day Mr. Merrill gave him before taking the matter to court, and as Mr. Barker knew he would have to pay in the long run, he went round to the lawyer’s house last night and tried to make a dicker. But Mr. Merrill held out until he got a promise that the whole amount would be paid.”
“Really?” exclaimed Jack. “That’s fine! We’ll be as rich as—as anything, sha’n’t we?”
“Well, you will, son.”
“And so will you! I mean—” Jack pulled himself up and made a new start: “You were saying that if you got back the money that was stolen you’d put the salvage money with it, weren’t you? And then what?”
“Why, in that case— But why talk about it, Jack? That sort of miracle isn’t likely to happen.”
“But—but suppose it did,” Jack insisted. “Suppose it had!”
Mr. Holden shook his head, smiling sadly. “Then I think I’d go back into business again, son,” he answered.
“How?” the boy asked eagerly, rising on his elbow.
“I’d go into partnership with Garnett and Sayer. Mr. Garnett told me only a couple of weeks ago that he’d be willing to let me buy a small interest for fifteen hundred dollars. But he might as well have said fifteen thousand.”
Jack’s fingers tightened on the canvas bag underneath the pillow, and he drew it slowly forth.