And he thought he knew how to do it.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Millie Price, noticing the preoccupied air of the boy after he returned from the capitalist’s office.
“I was thinking how I could make a haul,” said Jack, with a grin of anticipation.
“Not in stocks, I hope,” said Millie, with some concern, for she had little faith in Wall Street deals.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Millie,” said Jack, tantalizingly.
“Aren’t you just horrid!” she retorted, with a smile that showed the young messenger was a prime favorite of hers.
“I hope not. That’s what you said about that dude that was in here yesterday. I hope you aren’t comparing me with him.”
“The idea! Just as if I would!” she said, tossing her head. “Oh, by the way; who do you suppose was in here inquiring for you while you were out?”
“Couldn’t guess, Millie, unless it was the Mayor, who is a particular friend of mine,” said Jack, with a grin.
“What a ridiculous boy you are! It was Mr. Seymour Atherton.”