The Making of Bobby Burnit
"Mr. Applerod and myself have never agreed upon that point," wheezed Johnson sharply. "For my part I considered your father--well, scarcely reckless, but, say, sufficiently daring! Daring is about the word."
Bobby grinned cheerfully.
"He let the business go rather by its own weight, didn't he?"
Both gentlemen shook their heads, instantly and most emphatically.
"He certainly must have," insisted Bobby. "As I recollect it, he only worked up here, of late years, from about eleven fifty-five to twelve every other Thursday."
"Oftener than that," solemnly corrected the literal Mr. Johnson. "He was here from eleven until twelve-thirty every day."
"What did he do?"
It was Applerod who, with keen appreciation, hastened to advise him upon this point.
"Said 'yes' twice and 'no' twelve times. Then, at the very last minute, when we thought that he was through, he usually landed on a proposition that hadn't been put up to him at all,