Dick the Bank Boy | Page 9

it was Ferd Graylock returning from a little whirl around the
country, and cutting his customary wide swathe along the road.
He happened to recognize Dick as he swept by with a popping from the
exhaust, and shutting off power applied the brake so that he came to a
stop.
Dick was surprised and a little annoyed.
He hoped that Ferd did not mean to be as disagreeable as usual, and
perhaps force him into a war of words, or even worse; and
remembering what he had promised the anxious little inmate of the rose
cottage, he shut his teeth hard with the firm determination not to be
drawn into a row if it could possibly be avoided.
As he walked on he presently came up to where the other stood, with
one foot on the ground, balancing his machine and ready to go on again
slowly, pedalling as Dick tramped.
"Hello! Dick. Thought that was you. You jumped just in time or I
might have hit you a nasty blow. Fact is I was forgetting that the
beastly old town was so close by. Hear you've been working down at
old Cartwright's mill. Got a steady job?"
Dick was surprised at being spoken to in this fashion by the one whom
he had grown to look upon as his inveterate enemy, and who in the past

had never addressed him save to utter some sneering insult; could it be
that after all there was a spark of decency in Ferd, and that when he
came to reflect on how shabbily he had treated the boy who had shown
such willingness to help him drag his motor-cycle out of the ditch, he
was a little ashamed of his actions?
Dick was quick to seize the olive branch, though rather skeptical with
regard to what it could really mean.
"I have been working there five days, and would like to keep right
along only Toby has got well enough to go on his job again. Now I
must look around and see if I can find something else to do, for I've got
to bring in some money to help out at home, you know," he replied.
He could see the sneer upon Ferd's lip, for that young man had never
earned one cent in all his life, and foolishly looked down upon the
unfortunate boy whom fortune compelled to face the world and wrest
his living from it.
"I was thinking of you when I heard my governor say he wanted more
help. Perhaps you might strike a job there. I'll even put in a good word
for you to-night. Of course you understand that I'm not doing this
because I like you any better than before, but you did me a half decent
turn yesterday, and I'm not the one to forget it. Besides I don't want to
see a dog starve if I can help him by raising my hand. Come around and
see the old man to-morrow, and perhaps he'll offer you something."
The cool patronizing manner of the fellow when he said this galled
Dick exceedingly, and had it been only himself whom he had to
consider he would have snapped his fingers in Ferd's face.
But then he reflected that the other was doing him what he considered a
very great favor, and that of late he had had that old saying to the effect
that "beggars should not be choosers" rubbed into his soul.
So he crushed down the natural feeling of resentment that arose in his
heart, and tried to act as though he were really grateful for the crumb
thrown down to him with such scorn.

"That's good of you to think of me at all, Ferd. I'll see your father
to-morrow without fail. I hope he can offer me a job that will give me
something like the sum Mr. Cartwright has been paying me," he replied,
quietly.
"How much was that?" asked the other, contemptuously.
"At the rate of seven dollars and a half a full week," answered Dick.
Ferd whistled to signify his skepticism.
"You're yarning, Dick. I don't believe he gave you half that. Anyhow,
I'm dead sure dad'll never think of paying such big wages. He can get
all the help he needs at three dollars a week," remarked Ferd, preparing
to start up his machine and go ahead, since his object had been
accomplished, and he had the peculiar satisfaction of knowing that he
had after a fashion put that upstart Dick Morrison down a peg or two
even while making himself out to be a generous, forgiving fellow.
Dick saw him speed away with a renewed splutter and a cloud of dust,
while to himself he was saying:
"Three dollars a week will never satisfy me just