“Slow but sure at Lot & Company’s—if a fellow does his part and works hard——”
Davy was being brought up in the usual way.
Bellair said: “I’m coming over to see you at your house some evening soon—if I may.”
“Sure.... It isn’t much of a house.”
“I’m not so certain about that. Anyway, I want to come. We’ll talk about it again this evening. You ask your mother when she’ll let me——”
“You might come to-night—-instead of me coming to the hotel——”
“No, I want to talk with you alone.”
Davy looked relieved.... He was on his way presently, and the town appeared better to Bellair that afternoon. At five he was in the hotel-lobby when a hand plucked his sleeve and he looked down into the whitest, most terrified face, he had ever seen.
“I’m fired!” was the intelligence that came up from it, and there was reproach, too.
“Come on upstairs, but first take it from me that you’ll be glad of it, in ten minutes——”