“I don’t think so. It’s an Eastern company that’s building. It’s a connecting line between two other systems.”
“Ah, I don’t seem to remember the—the Sedalia, Dayton and Western, you said?” Mr. Pennimore took out a small note-book and jotted down a word or two. “I must look it up. Perhaps I may know some of the interested parties. In that case, unless there are very good reasons why the road should leave Graystone out, I don’t see why your father shouldn’t have what he wants.” He smiled at Dan and slipped the book back into his pocket.
“That would be bully!” cried Dan. “Could—could you do that, sir?”
“I think so. I’ll look into it and let you know. Perhaps you will be able to present the Sedalia, Dayton and Western railroad to Graystone as a Christmas present. Like that, would you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Dan eagerly. “Father would be awfully tickled. And—and so would I. Only I—I wouldn’t want you to do it just on account of what I did, Mr. Pennimore. It—it wasn’t worth it.”
“Perhaps I’m the better judge of what it was worth, my boy. Now I must be off. I telephoned to the school last evening, so that’s all right. I guess they won’t give you a licking, eh? Now I’m going to send Gerald down to see you and after awhile he will run you over to school in the car. I want you and Gerald to be friends, if you will. And you must come and see me often. I want you to take dinner some evening soon. Good-bye for the present, Dan.”
They shook hands, and Mr. Pennimore, with a kindly nod, went towards the door. But he had turned the next moment.
“Of course, Dan,” he said. “I want to replace those clothes that were burnt in my service. I’ll just mail you a check. And, by the way, the doctor promised to look in this morning. You’d better wait until he comes.”
“Yes, sir; but, if you don’t mind, I’d—I’d rather you wouldn’t pay for these clothes, sir. They are my oldest ones, and—and, anyway, I’d rather you wouldn’t.”
“Then I won’t,” was the answer. “I won’t insist, for I know you are able to replace them yourself. Good morning, Dan.”