It was the time to leave. Parcel under arm, he strode out.
Out on the sidewalk, he laughed aloud. Which wouldn't do. He was a business man now. With investments. He mustn't go grinning down Simpson Street.
But it was worth a thousand dollars. Just to feel this way once.
Jim Smith? out of breath, came sidling up to the corner. He had run around through the alley.
He wrung Henry's hand.
'Great!' he cried. 'Soaked it to the old boy, you did! Makes me think of a story. Maybe you've heard this one. If you have, just——'
A hand fell on Henry's shoulder.
It was Humphrey, hatless. He must have walked out right past Mr Boice. His face wrinkled into a grin.
'My boy,' he said, 'right here and now I thank you for the joy you've brought into my young life. The impossible has happened. The beautifully impossible. It was great.'
'Well,' cried Henry, beaming, unstrung, a touch of nervous aggression in his voice, 'I said it!'