"I never can thank you, Willie!" burst out the young man.
"Be good to Delight, my boy, an' make her happy; that's all the thanks
I want," was the grave response.
A pause fell between them. Perhaps Willie was thinking of the days
that must inevitably come when the girl he had loved since childhood
would be far away. How dull the gray house would be when she no longer
flitted in and out its doors! Try as he would to banish the selfish
reflection, it returned persistently. Then suddenly something quite
outside himself put the reverie to rout.
It was the querulous voice of Janoah Eldridge.
"I was right about them Galbraiths," he cried exultantly, standing in
the doorway and hurling the words into the room where the two men
lingered. "'Twas exactly as I said. Lyman Bearse's boy went up on the
Boston train one afternoon in front of Snelling an' that other feller
who was here, an' he heard every word they uttered. He said they
talked the whole way about gettin' a patent out on your invention.
Now, Willie Spence, was I right or warn't I? Mebbe you'll believe me
the next time I warn you against folks.
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