Twice Jack had received a hint from Mr. Bird—the last a strong one. He considered them and then decided to hold on a while longer.
“Say, Jack, what’s the matter with you; you’re as nervous as an old woman,” said Ed as they were on their way home on the afternoon of the day the stock touched 76.
“Am I?” returned the lad, with a queer sort of laugh. “I didn’t notice it.”
“Sure you are. What’s up? You aren’t thinking of running off with Millie Price and getting married, are you?” jokingly.
“Hardly, old man.”
“Haven’t been robbing the office safe with a view of emigrating to Canada?”
“Not much chance for that,” with what was intended to be a cheerful grin.
“Then what’s troubling you?”
“Is my hair turning gray?”
“I haven’t noticed that it is,” said Potter, in some surprise. “Why?”