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Bob threw himself back in the chair, and exploded with laughter. Herbert did likewise. But Tom was mad. He thought Bob had played a trick on him, and he said:
"I don't intend to be imposed upon in any such way as what this is, Bob Hunter. I'll show you that I can put up jobs, too, ef you think it is so much fun."
Now Brie cheese is somewhat soft, so much so that it many times adheres slightly to whatever it touches. Tom had rashly taken it up in his fingers, and now, while breathing forth malice and threats against Bob, he chanced to put his fingers up to his mouth. This brought them again in close proximity to his nose.
"Gewhopper!" yelled Tom, as he thrust his hand into his trousers pocket with a view to better protecting his nose. "I wouldn't er thought this of you, Bob Hunter!"
Both Bob and Herbert were convulsed with laughter, and were holding their sides from pain.
From the fact that they laughed so uncontrollably, and that they did not deny his charge, Tom felt sure that he had been made the b.u.t.t of a foul joke, and he resented it s.p.u.n.kily. This of course only made the situation more ridiculous, and the more Tom said, the harder Bob and Herbert laughed. At length, however, Bob quieted down sufficiently to remark:
"Tom, listen to me. You're the biggest fool I ever see."
"Yes, you think you've made a fool of me, don't you, Bob Hunter? But you hain't, for I got on to your game before I got any er that durned stuff into my mouth."
"Oh, don't you be so ignorant, Tom Flannery. The trouble is with you, you're a chump, you don't know nothin' about livin' at high toned places like this is."
"No, nor I don't want to nuther, Bob Hunter. Ef that stuff is what you call high toned livin', why I don't want no more of it in mine.
I'll----"
In the excitement of the conversation, Tom forgot to keep his hand housed up longer in his pocket, and now the tips of his fingers unconsciously found their way close to his nose again.
This was what caused Tom to break off his sentence so abruptly. He didn't say anything for a minute, but he looked a whole volume of epithets.
Herbert and Bob started in on another round of laughter that still further irritated Tom.
"I'm goin'," said he, slinging his napkin savagely upon the table; "I won't stand this business no more, Bob Hunter."
"Sit down, Tom," commanded Bob; "there's more to come yet. You hain't had no coffee yet, nor nuts and raisins."
Tom immediately replaced the napkin in his lap, and pulled up to the table again. Coffee, nuts and raisins! Oh, no, Tom Flannery couldn't allow his grievance to deprive him of these luxuries!
"Now, Tom," said Bob, "I jest want to show you that you've made a fool of yourself, and that we hain't made no fool of you. Of course we couldn't help laughin' to see you actin' so red.i.c.kerlous, Tom, and all about a little piece of cheese, too. A feller would er thought, Tom, that you'd been dumped in a sewer, to see you carry on; but when you get one er them crazy notions in your head, why, there's no doin' anything with you, but to let you sail in and enjoy yourself."
Bob then ate his choice bit of Brie with a keen relish, much to the surprise of Tom, and I may say Herbert as well, for the latter's taste had not been educated up to the point where he could eat such food.
At length reconciliation was reached, and Tom was once more happy. When the coffee had been drunk, the three boys, while eating nuts and raisins, discussed the problem of money making.
"How about the Wall Street racket?" remarked Tom.
"You refer to speculating, I suppose?" replied Herbert.
"Yes. You see my capital ain't earnin' me nothin'."
"Well, I have had very little time to think about that since we first spoke of it. In fact, I am not in favor of the idea."
"What! not in favor of spekerlatin'?" said Bob, with astonishment.
"Nuther am I," put in Tom, wisely; "I don't think it's safe."
"But you think it's safe to bet on horse racin', don't you, Tom Flannery?"
"Well, it's safer'n what spekerlatin' is, that's what I think, Bob Hunter."
"Humph! You know a lot, don't you, Tom Flannery?"
"No, I don't know a lot about them Wall Street schemes, ef that's what you mean; but I guess I can pick a winner at racin'."
"Well, ef you don't know nothin' about spekerlatin', how are you goin'
to use any judgment? Tell me that now, Tom Flannery."
"You kinder want to bulldoze me, don't you, Bob Hunter? You've got your head sot on spekerlatin', and you want to make me think jest like you do."
"You tire me, Tom Flannery," said Bob, with a great show of disgust.
"I'd try and have some sense, ef I was you."
"All right, Bob, then I'll try 'n' have some sense--I'll do jest as you say, and spekerlate till my five dollars is all blowed in. Now, does that satisfy you, Bob?"
Tom Flannery had almost always yielded readily to Bob's judgment. This sudden independence of opinion, therefore, was a surprise to young Hunter.
"Why, that's all right, Tom," said he, instantly changing his att.i.tude.
"I don't care nothin' about your spekerlatin' ef you don't want to; but I want to make some money, that's what I do, and I thought you did too, Tom."
"So I do, Bob, so I do; but you see so many folks loses money down there in Wall Street, and some of them big fellers, too, with heaps of money, just dead loads of it, to back 'em."
"Well, that's so, Tom, I know they loses sometimes, but don't lots of 'em make money? Now answer me that."
"Yes, you are right, Bob, they do some of 'em strike it rich, but as you said about the racin' I guess the money ain't good money, fer it don't stick to 'em."
"Well, I should think it stuck to Jay Gould, didn't it?"
"Yes, he is one of the few successful ones," said Herbert, answering the question for Tom.
"Yes, but there are lots and lots of them kings of Wall Street,"
persisted Bob, who had a strong desire to become a speculator.
"So there are, Bob," replied Herbert, "but they do not hold their rank throughout their lives. A man that is called a king in Wall Street one day, may be a beggar the next day."
"Think of that, Bob," put in Tom Flannery, exultantly.
"Well, I know, but then them kings don't all go up like that."
"But the majority of them do. If you will get a book that gives the history of Wall Street, you will be surprised to see how thousands, hundreds of thousands, and even millions, are swept away almost without warning."
"Whew! just think of it! A whole million dollars!" exclaimed Tom. "Say, Herbert, how much is a million dollars? It must be a whoppin' big pile, that's what I think."
"A million dollars--let me see, Tom, how I can explain it so that you will comprehend its----"