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Updated: May 11, 2025
You haven't had a chance. Hank, and when you do get one, I'll bet you can lay out the best of them. What do you say?" "Henry," said the dark-visaged DeGolyer and the light of affection beamed in his eyes "Henry, you are a positive charm; and if I should meet a girl adorned with a disposition like yours, I would unstring my heart, hand it to her and say, 'Here, miss, this belongs to you."
The blustery afternoon settled into a calm as the sun went down, and a change came with the night. The sufferer's mind flitted back for a moment, and in that speck of time he spoke not, but he gave his friend a look of gratitude. All was over. During the night DeGolyer sat alone by the bedside. And a ship came at morning. A kind-hearted priest offered his services.
Young Witherspoon got out of the cab and came up the steps. "He is waiting for you, Henry." And speaking to the footman, DeGolyer added: "There's nothing the matter. Send those girls about their business." Young Witherspoon followed DeGolyer into the library. The merchant was standing with his shaky hands on the back of a chair. He stepped forward and tried to speak, but failed. "I'm your son.
"We will discuss it in the library, father," DeGolyer answered. "But can't you tell me now whether or not it has come out all right?" "I think it's all right, but you may not. But let as wait until after dinner." When they went into the library Witherspoon hastily lighted his cigar, and sat down in his leather-covered chair. "Well, how did it come out?" he asked. DeGolyer did not sit down.
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