CHAPTER XXI.

TWO YOUNG CAPITALISTS.

"Is that you, Bob Hunter?" said Tom Flannery, his eyes opened wide with surprise.

"I should think it is," laughed the young detective.

"Say, Bob, where did you get 'em?" continued Tom, somewhat in doubt of his own senses.

"Why, I bought 'em, of course. How does anybody get new clothes?"

"They are slick, though, ain't they, Bob?" said young Flannery, admiringly, "and they fit stunnin', too. You must er struck a snap somewhere, Bob."

"I should think I did," replied the latter; "the best snap any er the boys ever struck."

"Bob, you was always lucky. I wish I was as lucky as what you are. I never strike no snaps, Bob."

"Don't you?" said young Hunter, meditatively.

"No, they don't never come my way," responded Tom, dolefully.

Bob turned the lapels of his coat back and threw out his chest ponderously.

"Tom," said he, with the air of a Wall Street banker, "here's a five for you," taking a new, crisp bill from his vest pocket.

"For me, Bob!" exclaimed Tom, incredulously.

"Why, yes, of course it's for you. Why not?"

"I don't understand it, Bob," said young Flannery, completely upset.

"Why, it's one of them snaps. You said you never had any luck like me, so I thought I'd just give you some."

"Bob, you're a dandy. I never see any feller do things the way you do."

"Well, I do try to throw a little style into 'em, when it's handy to do it."

"I should think you do."

"You see, Tom, it don't cost no more to do things as they ought to be. I believe in doing 'em right, that's what I say."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TOM," SAID BOB, "HERE'S A FIVE FOR YOU."]

"But, you see, Bob, believing in 'em and knowing how to do 'em is two different things. Now I believe in 'em just the same as what you do, but I can't do 'em the same way."

"Well, you ain't so old, Tom."

"I know I ain't, but that don't make no difference, for when you was no older than what I am, why you done things in a awful grand way."

Bob here explained to Tom that the five dollar bill was a present to him from Richard Goldwin, the banker, and told him also about his own good luck.

"And he gave you all that money to buy these new clothes with! He is a bully old fellow, ain't he, Bob?" said Tom Flannery, greatly astonished.

"I should say so," responded Bob. "But I didn't spend it all, though."

"How much did you put up for 'em, Bob?"

"Fifteen dollars, that's all."

"They are swell, though, I tell you, Bob, and you look like kind of a masher," said Tom, criticising them carefully.

"Well, I ain't no masher, but I think myself they do look kinder slick."

"And you got five dollars left, too?"

"Yes, jest the same as what you have, Tom."

"What you goin' to do with it, Bob?"

"I hain't thought about that yet. What you goin' to do with yourn?"

"I guess I'll keep it, Bob, till next summer, and put it up on the races."

"What do you want to do that for, Tom Flannery?" returned Bob, with disgust.

"Why, to make some money, of course."

"Are you sure you will make it?"

"Of course I am, Bob. n.o.body what knows anything at all can't lose when he has so much as five dollars to back him. It's them that don't have nothin' what gets broke on racin'."

"You know all about it, I suppose?"

"Why, of course I do, Bob; I've made a stake lots of times."

"And lost lots of times, too, I s'pose."

"Well, that's because I didn't have enough capital."

"But answer me this, Tom Flannery," said Bob, pointedly: "You admit you did get wiped out at bettin', do you?"

"Well, yes, I s'pose I did, Bob."

"And you'll get broke again, if you go at it. I tell you, Tom, they all get left, them that bets on horse racing."