ter the theatre that I
got run into and run over!
"Ye see," he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and with
a naivete, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's own, "I
had to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these letters,
because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you mightn't
like it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm, don't yer
see? I wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and I don't
mind tellin' you NOW, old man, that when I wrote you that first chipper
letter from the lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two days. But it's
all right NOW," with a laugh. "Then I got into this business--thinkin'
it nothin'--jest the very last thing--and do you know, old pard, I
couldn't tell anybody but YOU--and, in fact, I kept it jest to tell
you--I've made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars! Yes, sir, NINE
HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX DOLLARS! solid money, in Adams and Co.'s Bank,
just out er my trade."
"Wot trade?" asked Uncle Billy.
Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy
crossing-sweeper's broom. "That trade."
"Certingly," said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh.
"It's an outdoor trade," said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion
of awkwardness or apology in his manner; "and thar ain't much difference
between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over tailing with a
rake, ONLY--WOT YE GET with a broom YOU HAVE HANDED TO YE, and ye don't
have to PICK IT UP AND FISH IT OUT ER the wet rocks and sluice-gushin';
and it's a heap less tiring to the back."
"Certingly, you bet!" said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a
certain nervous abstraction.
"I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd tumble
to my doing it, until I'd made my pile. And ef I hadn't made it, I
wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard--never!"
"Do you mind my runnin' out a minit," said Uncle Billy, rising. "You
see, I've got a friend waitin' for me outside--and I reckon"--he
stammered--"I'll jest run out and send him off, so I kin talk comf'ble
to ye."
"Ye ain't got anybody you're owin' money to," said Uncle Jim earnestly,
"anybody follerin' you to get paid, eh? For I kin jest set down right
here and write ye off a check on the bank!"
"No," said Uncle Billy. He slipped out of the door, and ran like a deer
to the waiting carriage. Thrusting a twenty-dollar gold-piece into the
coachman's hand, he said hoarsely, "I ain't
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