Wycherley makes a grimace, but sturdily puts his hand in his pocket.
“How much was it, my dear?”
“Only fifteen cents, sir, but it was all granny had, and she won’t get any more till to-morrow.”
“A mere trifle, my child. There you are. Don’t mind saying thanks, but be very, very careful not to drop any.”
Her looks are eloquent enough as she goes skipping along toward the grocery. Wycherley watches her and then chuckles.
“There goes my breakfast, and the cigar, too. Well, what of it? ’Tisn’t the first time you’ve fasted, my boy, and may not be the last. Good for the digestion, don’t you know. Besides, you’re invited to dinner at the Sherman House with Aleck, and a sharp appetite will give you more of a chance to enjoy the good things of life. It’s brought relief to one small heart, anyway. Now, I might as well return to my chair and settle this question of a million. If I’ve won I can lay back and imagine a royal banquet fit for the gods.”
Presently he is scanning the reports.
“What’s this? Unexpected advance in Golconda mining stock—I was deep in that. Decline of Reading. I skipped that, glad to say. How about the Consolidated on which I spread? I can hardly see for excitement. What’s that, advanced two cents? Hurrah! and I only hoped for one. Sell out, sell out, don’t hold anything a minute later. I’ve gone and done it. Yes, sir, as sure as fate, I’m a millionaire. No thirteen dollars this time; all previous losses wiped out and something like a million to my credit. Think of it, a cool million, too. Champagne—no, that wouldn’t do on an empty stomach. I’ll hie away to Kinsey’s, and scan his bill of fare. This settles it. I’m cut out for a broker. The whole secret is to stand by your colors long enough, and success is certain.”
Someone grasps his foot, and looking down he sees the bootblack commencing operations.
“Hold on there, boy! just gave the last fifteen cents I had to a little girl who lost her money. You’ll have to trust me or take this paper in pay.”