“To be continued in our next,” he amended. “Won’t you come in and have a sundae? You look as if you didn’t know it, but the rest of us have discovered it’s a right warm morning.”
Looking across the little table at him over her sundae, she questioned him with innocent impudence. “I saw you and dad deep in plans Tuesday. I suppose by now you have all the train robbers safely tucked away in the penitentiary?”
“Not yet,” he answered cheerfully.
“Not yet!” Her lifted eyebrows and the derisive flash beneath mocked politely his confidence. “By this time I should think they might be hunting big game in deepest Africa.”
“They might be, but they’re not.”
“What about that investment in futurities you made on the train? The month is more than half up. Do you see any chance of realizing?”
“It looks now as if I might be a false prophet, but I feel way down deep that I won’t. In this prophet’s business confidence is half the stock in trade.”
“Really. I’m very curious to know what it is you predicted. Was it something good?”
“Good for me,” he nodded.
“Then I think you’ll get it,” she laughed. “I have noticed that it is the people that expect things—and then go out and take them—that inherit the earth these days. The meek have been dispossessed.”