“Hush! here comes Mr. Leonard,” cried a scout. “He has heard all that rascally noise. Limber up and get to work _quick_.”
The men hastened to various avocations, somewhat to Will’s surprise. He was as honest as the sun, and would never have thought of such deceit. He had, all his life, fathered all his actions.
When Mr. Leonard appeared, Will was seated in his shirt-sleeves on a dry-goods box, whistling in a low tone, and keeping time with his heels.
Mr. Leonard looked inquiringly around, a look of displeasure on his face.
“What has been going on here!” he asked, sharply. “I heard an uproar all the way down to my office. You are all suddenly at work. What have you been doing, boy?”
“Nothing. Only killing time,” said Will, indifferently. “We kinder run out of work, and I wanted to learn these fellows a South street wharf break-down. Want to see me do it?”
Will jumped from his box and struck an attitude.
“No. And I want less noise and commotion. If you wish to stay in my employment you must learn to curb yourself a little. Let us have no more such performances.”
“You suit me fu’st-rate so fur. Got no notion of dischargin’ you yet,” said Will. “But what’s to be done? I can’t hold in. It’s out of the question. There’d be something bu’st sure.”
“Well,” said Mr. Leonard, turning on his heel to hide a broad smile. “I must give you some out-door work--send you on errands. Can I trust you to do them correctly?”
“I dunno. Won’t make no promises. You can try me. That’s the way to find out. I know everything and everybody out of doors; that’s something.”
Thenceforth Will varied his store duties with out-door avocations, his quick and intelligent performance of which gave much satisfaction.
It was two or three days after the last-narrated events that a slender, keen-eyed person stopped in front of Mr. Leonard’s store. He was dressed in grayish clothes, and wore a wide-rimmed hat.
He glanced up at the lofty iron front, reaching five stories high, and then briskly entered the store, threading his way back between the open cases of goods which covered the long floor to the counting-house.
Sending in his card he was at once admitted to Mr. Leonard’s private office.
“Take a seat, Mr. Fitler,” said Mr. Leonard, pushing aside his papers.