Tommy and Grizel | Page 4

his memory.
Result, that they were now face to face.
A tiny red spot, not noticeable before, now appeared in Tommy's eyes.
It was never there except when he was determined to have his way.
Pym, my friend, yes, and everyone of you who is destined to challenge
Tommy, 'ware that red light!
"Well, which am I?" demanded Pym, almost amused, Tommy was so
obviously in a struggle with the problem.
The saucer and the blank pages told nothing. "Whichever you are," the
boy answered heavily, "it's not herding nor foddering cattle, and so
long as it's not that, I'll put my heart in it, and where the heart is, there
the treasure--"
He suddenly remembered that his host must be acquainted with the
sentiment.
Easy-going Pym laughed, then said irritably, "Of what use could a mere

boy be to me?"
"Then it's not the page-boy!" exclaimed Tommy, thankfully.
"Perhaps I am 'Scholastic,'" suggested Pym.
"No," said Tommy, after a long study of his face.
Pym followed this reasoning, and said touchily, "Many a schoolmaster
has a red face."
"Not that kind of redness," explained Tommy, without delicacy.
"I am 'H and H,'" said Pym.
"You forget you wrote to me as one person," replied Tommy. "So I did.
That was because I am the chemist; and I must ask you, Thomas, for
your certificate."
Tommy believed him this time, and Pym triumphantly poured himself a
glass of whisky, spilling some of it on his dressing-gown.
"Not you," said Tommy, quickly; "a chemist has a steady hand."
"Confound you!" cried Pym, "what sort of a boy is this?"
"If you had been the draper you would have wiped the drink off your
gown," continued Tommy, thoughtfully, "and if you had been 'Glasgow
Man' you would have sucked it off, and if you had been the charitable
society you wouldn't swear in company." He flung out his hand. "I'll
tell you who you are," he said sternly, "you're 'Anon.'"
Under this broadside Pym succumbed. He sat down feebly. "Right," he
said, with a humourous groan, "and I shall tell you who you are. I am
afraid you are my amanuensis!"
Tommy immediately whistled, a louder and more glorious note than
before.

"Don't be so cocky," cried Pym, in sudden rebellion. "You are only my
amanuensis if you can tell me what that is. If you can't--out you go!"
He had him at last! Not he!
"An amanuensis," said Tommy, calmly, "is one who writes to dictation.
Am I to bring in my box? It's at the door."
This made Pym sit down again. "You didn't know what an amanuensis
was when you answered my advertisement," he said.
"As soon as I got to London," Tommy answered, "I went into a
bookseller's shop, pretending I wanted to buy a dictionary, and I looked
the word up."
"Bring in your box," Pym said, with a groan.
But it was now Tommy's turn to hesitate. "Have you noticed," he asked
awkwardly, "that I sometimes whistle?"
"Don't tell me," said Pym, "that you have a dog out there."
"It's not a dog," Tommy replied cautiously.
Pym had resumed his seat at the table and was once more toying with
his pen. "Open the door," he commanded, "and let me see what you
have brought with you."
Tommy obeyed gingerly, and then Pym gaped, for what the open door
revealed to him was a tiny roped box with a girl of twelve sitting on it.
She was dressed in some dull-coloured wincey, and looked cold and
patient and lonely, and as she saw the big man staring at her she
struggled in alarm to her feet, and could scarce stand on them. Tommy
was looking apprehensively from her to Pym.
"Good God, boy!" roared Pym, "are you married?"
"No," cried Tommy, in agony, "she's my sister, and we're orphans, and
did you think I could have the heart to leave Elspeth behind?" He took

her stoutly by the hand.
"And he never will marry," said little Elspeth, almost fiercely; "will
you, Tommy?"
"Never!" said Tommy, patting her and glaring at Pym.
But Pym would not have it. "Married!" he shouted. "Magnificent!" And
he dipped exultantly, for he had got his idea at last. Forgetting even that
he had an amanuensis, he wrote on and on and on.
"He smells o' drink," Elspeth whispered.
"All the better," replied Tommy, cheerily. "Make yourself at home,
Elspeth; he's the kind I can manage. Was there ever a kind I couldna
manage?" he whispered, top-heavy with conceit.
"There was Grizel," Elspeth said, rather thoughtlessly; and then
Tommy frowned.

CHAPTER II
THE SEARCH FOR THE TREASURE
Six years afterwards Tommy was a famous man, as I hope you do not
need to be told; but you may be wondering how it came about.