Judge Hampton had been quietly consulting with the magistrate and Captain Bunderley. Bluff and hearty, Captain Bunderley’s part in the conference had not been quiet.
“It will be the best thing in the world for the boy,” he said. “He has strength and ambition; and those are the only two things an American boy needs to make him a success in life.”
“Mr. Whiffin”—the former judge turned toward the showman—“our proposal is this: work will be found for Joe at Kingswood, Wisconsin, and he will be given an opportunity to attend school. You, as a man of the world, must know that this is the best thing to do.”
“I can’t fight ag’in a dozen,” answered Mr. Whiffin. “An’ I know that the boy’s head will be so turned after all this fuss over him that he’d never do a lick o’ work right ag’in.”
“By gum, I can’t hardly believe that sich good luck has come to me,” said Joe.
“You kin begin to believe it right now,” remarked Mr. Spudger. “An’ don’t never forgit that you owe everything to Whiffin an’ me; because if you hadn’t been with the show this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Yes, that’s quite true,” assented Captain Bunderley. “You do owe them a great deal. Shake hands with your former employers, Joe. On such an auspicious occasion for you there must be no ill-feeling.”
“That’s right,” assented Joe, heartily.
“I ain’t got none—not a bit of it,” said Mr. Peter Whiffin, extending two bony fingers. “What riled me at first was to think that Brandon should have inweigled him inter running off.”
“An’ Joe beating it without so much as leavin’ a card of regrets,” growled Mr. Spudger.