“Here I am, Mr. Stagg,” said the boy cheerfully. “Mornin’, Car’lyn May. And how’s our friend?” and he ventured to pat Prince’s head, having become well acquainted with the dog by this time.
“Never mind that dog, Chet,” said Mr. Stagg. “You pay attention to me. Look out for the store. Don’t have any fooling. And——”
“Oh, uncle! may I stay, too? Me and Prince?” cried Carolyn May. “We’ll be good.”
“Pshaw! Yes, if you want to,” responded Mr. Stagg, hurrying away. He did not wish to be bothered with her just then. He desired to walk rapidly.
Chet went to wash his hands and remove the apron. If he was to act as clerk instead of chore boy, he certainly must “dress the part.” Besides, he did not want to be so dirty in Carolyn May’s presence. It seemed to Chet Gormley as though a boy must look his very best to be worthy of companionship with the radiant little vision that Mr. Stagg referred to as “Hannah’s Car’lyn.”
“My! your uncle’s changin’ more and more, ain’t he?” remarked Chet, the optimistic. “He does sometimes almost laugh, Car’lyn. I never see the beat of it!”
“Oh, is he?” cried the little child. “Is he looking up more? Do you think he is, Chet?”
“I positively do,” Chet assured her.
“And he hasn’t always got his nose in that old ledger?”
“Well—I wouldn’t say that he neglected business, no, ma’am,” said the boy honestly. “You see, we men have got to think of business mostly. But he sure is thinkin’ of some other things, too—ya-as, indeedy!”