Duncan, and I should be glad
if you would pay me a part of your account. It has been
running some time----"
Randolph's jaw fell, and he looked blank.
"How much do I owe you?" he asked.
Tony referred to a long ledgerlike account-book, turned to a
certain page, and running his fingers down a long series of items,
answered, "Twenty-seven dollars and sixty cents."
"It can't be so much!" ejaculated Randolph, in dismay.
"Surely you have made a mistake!"
"You can look for yourself," said Tony suavely. "Just reckon
it up; I may have made a little mistake in the sum total."
Randolph looked over the items, but he was nervous, and the
page swam before his eyes. He was quite incapable of performing
the addition, simple as it was, in his then frame of mind.
"I dare say you have added it up all right," he said, after
an abortive attempt to reckon it up, "but I can hardly believe that
I owe you so much."
"`Many a little makes a mickle,' as we Scotch say," answered
Tony cheerfully. "However, twenty-seven dollars is a mere
trifle to a young man like you. Come, if you'll pay me to-night,
I'll knock off the sixty cents.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152