If I could only get another job as
chauffeur it'd be all right," Hank Brady was mumbling to himself
dejectedly.
"Perhaps you can," said Frank quickly. "I remember, now, that our man
had to go away suddenly the day before yesterday. Look here, Hank! Do
you really mean to do the right thing now? Have you had your lesson
pounded into you?"
"I sure have. Never again for me, I give you my word. I guess my folks
has been worried some on my account, but they don't need to any more.
I've reformed, I have. I'm goin' to walk a straight line after this."
The fellow spoke as though he meant it, and Frank believed he could
detect the ring of sincerity in his voice.
"All right. Shake hands on that, Hank. Don't you forget it, that you'll
find plenty of fellows willing to give you a lift, just as quickly as
some others want to give you a drag down. It all depends on where the
other chap is standing himself. You come and see me to-morrow, some
time. I'm Frank Langdon, and my father is the president of the First
National Bank."
"This is mighty white of you, fellers," muttered the other, apparently
ashamed.
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