“I don’t hesitate to guarantee,” said Sherwood, with glowing gravity, “that in two years’ time their four thousand pounds shall produce three times what it does now.  Only think, my dear fellow!  Jam—­think what it means!”

For ten minutes Godfrey rhapsodised on the theme.  Warburton was moved by his eloquence.

“I shall run down to St. Neots,” said Will at length.

“Do.  And then we’ll both of us go down to Bristol.  I’m sure you’ll like Applegarth.  By the bye, you never went in for astronomy, did you?  I felt ashamed of my ignorance.  Why, it’s one of the most interesting subjects a man can study.  I shall take it up.  One might have a little observatory of one’s own.  Do you know Bristol at all?  A beastly place, the town, but perfectly delightful country quite near at hand.  Applegarth lives in an ideal spot—­you’ll see.”

There was a knock at the door and the manager entered.  Other business claimed their attention.

CHAPTER 8

Warburton often returned from Whitechapel to Chelsea on foot, enjoying the long walk after his day in the office.  This evening, a heavily clouded sky and sobbing wind told that rain was not far off; nevertheless, wishing to think hard, which he could never do so well as when walking at a brisk pace, he set off in the familiar direction—­a straight cut across South London.

In Lower Kennington Lane he stopped, as his habit was, at a little stationer’s shop, over which was the name Potts.  During his last year in the West Indies, he had befriended an English lad whose health was suffering from the climate, and eventually had paid his passage to the United States, whither the young adventurer wished to go in pursuit of his fortune.  Not long after he received a letter of thanks from the lad’s father, and, on coming to London, he sought out Mr. Potts, whose gratitude and its quaint expression had pleased him.  The acquaintance continued; whenever Warburton passed the shop he stepped in and made purchases—­generally of things he did not in the least want.  Potts had all the characteristics which were wont to interest Will, and touch his sympathies; he was poor, weak of body, humble-spirited, and of an honest, simple mind.  Nothing more natural and cordial than Will’s bearing as he entered and held out his hand to the shopkeeper.  How was business?  Any news lately from Jack?  Jack, it seemed, was doing pretty well at Pittsburgh; would Mr. Warburton care to read a long letter that had arrived from him a week ago?  To his satisfaction, Will found that the letter had enclosed a small sum of money, for a present on the father’s birthday.  Having, as usual, laden himself with newspapers, periodicals and notepaper, he went his way.