Peter found Morris alone, lying at ease in a big, hospitable armchair, and in good humor.
“Hello!” Morris held forth a big, brown hand. “Glad to see you. Sit down.”
Peter made known the object of his visit, and finally Morris yawned and stretched a hand toward his desk.
“All right; toss me my check-book.”
Peter eagerly brought book and pen, ink and blotter, and the big freshman, using the arm of the chair for support, scrawled illegible characters. Then he tore off the little strip of pale-green paper and handed it to Peter.
“That’s the best I can do for you.”
He yawned again and closed his eyes. Peter opened his. “But—but this—this is for only ten dollars!”
“You’re good at figures,” muttered Morris, sleepily.
Peter stared at him in silence while the brass-dialed clock ticked twenty times. This, then, was the realization of his magnificent hopes!