"H'm. Most fellows in your position would have thought it was the last
thing possible. Have you any idea what it means to saddle yourself with
a child like this? Whatever put such an idea into your head?"
"Jesus Christ," answered John quietly.
"Well, well, you're a queer fellow, Randolph. But how are you going to
make the wages spin out? A boy is 'a growing giant of wants whom the
coat of Have is never large enough to cover.'"
"His father managed, so can I." John's voice shook a little.
"His father! But he _was_ his father, you see. That makes a mighty
difference. Well, Randolph, I give you up. You are beyond me."
John rose. "Was that all you wished to say to me, Mr. Branford?"
"Sit down, man! What the mischief are you in such a hurry for? It stands
to reason the Company can't let you bear the brunt of this most
deplorable occurrence, though I don't believe we could have found a
better guardian for the poor little lad. But guardians expect to be paid
for their trouble. What price do you set, Randolph?"
"I don't want any pay for obeying my Master, Mr. Branford."
"Your Master, Randolph?" said the Manager with a puzzled stare.
"Yes, sir, Jesus Christ."
"Upon my word, Randolph, you're a queer fellow! Well, if you don't want
pay, I want some one with a head on his shoulders in this office. Any of
the fellows in the outside office would be glad of the chance to get in
here, but I want a man who understands what he is doing as well as I do
myself. You have practical knowledge, Randolph, you're the man I want. I
shall expect you to start in here tomorrow morning. The salary will be
double your present wages. And, since you have constituted yourself
guardian of the boy, I may as well tell you that the Company has decided
to set aside a yearly sum for his maintenance and education.
"Now you can go, if you are in such a tremendous hurry, Randolph: only
don't try any more of such toploftiness with me. It won't go down, you
see;" and the Manager chuckled softly, as John, with broken thanks, left
the room. "I rather think I got the better of him that time!" he said to
himself.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Judge Hildreth sat in his private office, immersed in anxious thought.
Every day brought new difficulties to be wrestled with in connection
with the multitudinous schemes which were making an old man of him while
he was still in his prime. His hair was grey, his hands trembled, his
eyes were bloodshot, and his face had the unhealthy pallor which
accompanies intense nervous pressure and excitement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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