“Hank.”

“All right, Hank.  Now, I’m going to leave you here, but I’ll be back soon.”

“No; they’ll steal my clothes!” he cried, in alarm.

“No, they won’t; they’ll give you more clothes.  You stay here, and I will bring you something when I come back.”

DeGolyer went to a hotel.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A MOST PECULIAR FELLOW.

Early the next morning George Witherspoon was pacing the sidewalk in front of his house when DeGolyer came up.  The merchant was startled.

“Why, where did you come from!” he exclaimed.

“I thought it best to get back as soon as possible,” DeGolyer answered, shaking hands with him.  “The truth is, I met a man who caused me to change my plans.  He wants to buy my paper, and so I came back with him.”

“Good enough, my dear boy.  We’ll go down immediately after breakfast and close with him one way or another.  I am delighted, I assure you.  Why, I missed you every minute of the time.  See how I have already begun to rely on you?  I haven’t said a word to your mother about that angel.  Hah, you’d burn down the Colossus, would you?  Why, bless my life, you rascal.”

“Who is that?” Ellen cried as they entered the hall; and with an airy, early-morning grace she came running down the stairway.  “Oh, nobody can place any confidence in what you say,” she declared, kissing him.  “Goodness alive, man, you look as if you hadn’t slept a wink since you left home.”  Just then Mrs. Witherspoon came out of the dining-room.  “Mother,” Ellen called, “here’s one of your mother’s people, and he’s darker than ever.”

Mrs. Witherspoon fondly kissed him before she gave Ellen the usual look of gentle reproach.  “You must have known how much we missed you, my son, and that is the reason you came home.  And you’re just in time for breakfast.  Ellen, will you please get out of the way?  And what do you mean by saying that he’s darker than ever?” Here she gave DeGolyer an anxious look.  “But you are not ill, are you, my son?”

“Ill!” Witherspoon repeated, with resentment.  “Of course he’s not ill.  What do you mean by ill?  Do you expect a man to travel a thousand miles and then look like a rose?  Is breakfast ready?  Well, come then.  We’ve got business to attend to.”

“Now, as to this man who wants to buy my paper,” said DeGolyer, when they were seated at the table, “let me tell you that he is a most peculiar fellow, and if he finds that I am anxious to sell, he’ll back out.  Therefore I don’t think you’d better see him, father.”

“Nonsense, my dear boy; I can make him buy in three minutes.”

“That may be, but you might scare him off in one minute.  He’s an old-maidish sort of fellow, and is easily frightened.  You’d better let me work him.”

“All right, but don’t haggle.  There are transactions in which men are bettered by being beaten, and this is one of them.”