"I reckon I know more about it than you think. I've been goin' over things since last night--and goin' back to old things too--about the old gentleman and Nancy." "It seems so awfully--Lord, it seems everything that's bad and rotten, Jack." "No, it don't," said old Jack quietly. "It's a bit of a facer for me--I tell you that straight--but it don't seem unnatural in you. Only I'm sorry like." "If there was anything in the world I could do, Jack! But there it is--there isn't." "I'm not so sure about that." He was smoking very slowly, and seemed to be thinking hard. Andy lit a cigarette. His joy was quenched in sympathy with Jack. "You've given me a disappointment, Andy. I'm not denyin' it. But there, I can't expect you to feel about the business as I do. Comin' to me from my father, and havin' been the work o' the best years of my life! And no better business in any town of the size o' Meriton all the country through--I'll wager that! No, you can't feel as I do. And you've a right to choose your own life. There's one thing you might do for me, Andy, though." "Well, if there's anything else in the world--" "I loved Nancy better than anybody, and the old gentleman--well, as I've told you, he never let me see a difference. I've got no kin--unless I can call you kin, Andy. If you want to make up for givin' me this bit of--of a facer, as I say, I'll tell you what you can do. There's times in a young chap's life when bein' able to put up a bit o' the ready makes all the difference, eh? If so be as you should find yourself placed like that, I want you to promise to ask me for it. Will you, lad?" Jack's voice faltered for a moment. "No call for you to go back across half the world for it. It's here, waitin' for you in Martin's bank in High Street. If you ever want to enter for an event, let me put up the stakes for you, Andy. Promise me that, and we'll say no more about the shop." Andy was touched to the heart. "I promise. There's my hand on it, Jack." "You'll come to me first--you won't go to any one before me?" old Jack insisted jealously. "I'll come to you first--and last," said Andy. "Aye, lad." The old fellow's eyes gleamed again. "Then it'll be our race. We'll both be in it, won't we, Andy? And if you pass the post first, I shall have a right to throw up my hat. And why shouldn't you? The favourite don't always win." "I'm not expecting to do anything remarkable, Jack. I'm not such a fool as that."