"Keep you on? Of course! Why not? You’ve been a pretty silly chap in choosing your friends, but that won’t happen again. There, there; don’t thank me." And the worthy stationer bustled away, leaving Jim with flushed face and sparkling eyes. This was a greater piece of good fortune than he had dared hope for. In the corridor he found his mother with Mrs. Boden; and directly afterwards Dick, who had suddenly disappeared, ran up waving his cap and hardly able to keep from hurrahing. "O my aunt!" cried he; "here’s a stroke of good luck! Let’s go outside, where I can tell you all about it. You’ll never guess where I’ve been." "You had better tell us, then," said his mother. "So I will. Don’t get too excited, now. What do you think of an interview with Sir Thomas Arkell in the magistrates’ room? I thought you’d open your eyes. O my—" "Never mind your aunt," said Jim, laughing; "we’re dying to hear about the interview." "Well, while you were talking to Mr. Broad, a policeman came up and asked if I was Richard Boden. When I told him I was, he said, ’Come this way. Sir Thomas wishes to speak to you.’ He was a solemn old chap, and marched along like a mute at a funeral. I began to feel frightened." "I wish I’d been there to see you, Dicky," said Mrs. Hartland. "Well, it really was enough to make me nervous," declared Dick. "However, at last he knocked at a door; some one said, ’Come in,’ and there was Sir Thomas standing with his back to the fire. "’Ah,’ said he—and he isn’t half as fierce as he looks—’are you Richard Boden?’ "’Yes, sir.’ "’Well, I wanted to say I was very pleased with you this morning. Where do you go to school?’ And when I told him, he said, ’I suppose your master can give you a good character?’ "’I think he will, sir,’ I answered; and then he wrote down my name and the name of the school in a notebook. "’I will see Mr. Holmore,’ he said; ’and should the result be satisfactory, as I have no doubt it will, I shall find a berth for you in my business.’" "O Dick!" exclaimed his mother, "it sounds too good to be true!" "It’s true enough," cried Dick gaily, throwing his cap into the air. "Don’t you hear the bells, ’Turn again, Richard, Lord Mayor of Beauleigh’? Why, it’s as simple as anything: just like going upstairs. Office-boy, clerk, confidential clerk, manager, partner—Arkell and Boden! We’ll hang out a big signboard when that time comes. Hurrah! Trot along, Jimmy!" "You might both run on," suggested Mrs. Hartland, "and get a cup of tea ready for us." "Rather a drop from the Lord-Mayor business, isn’t it?" laughed Dick good-humouredly. "Still, it’s as well to make use of me while you can."