"I didn't say I was going to do it at all. I merely asked you to find out your friend Strong's opinion. Do you know, some of Strong's ideas are not so bad. Ask him if a room such as I describe would be as satisfactory to him as the packing-box lunch room from which he and his friend Jackson were to-day ejected." "Of course Strong will like it!" "I think I will give the orders, then. That vacant floor may as well be used for this purpose as any other. We shall not want it at present, and if we ever need more room we must devise some other way. I've a fancy, somehow, to call the new venture the Strong Reading-Room." Peter started to speak. "Purely as a joke, you know," went on Mr. Coddington, waving his hand. "Just as a reminder to Strong how very near he came to losing his position." Mr. Coddington glanced up humorously; then he chuckled and so did Peter. [Illustration] CHAPTER IX PETER AIDS IN A SURPRISE AND RECEIVES ONE All the next few months corps of men worked secretly transforming into a reading-room the great vacant place, which, on that memorable day, Peter and Nat had appropriated as a lunch room. Carpenters laid the new floor and stained it; painters tinted the walls a soft green; masons constructed a hospitable fireplace. One end of the room was furnished with tiers of book-shelves, tables, chairs, and reading lights; the other was dotted with a myriad of small tables for the use of those who wished to lunch at the factories. Then one Sunday afternoon when everything was completed Peter and his father made a clandestine trip to the tannery and admitting themselves, crept up-stairs where Mr. Coddington unlocked the door of the "forbidden chamber." The whole room glowed with sunshine which flooded the polished floors and reflected its brightness in the shiny brass andirons adorning the fireplace. Peter, who had not seen the place since it was finished, exclaimed with delight. "You are satisfied then, Peter?" inquired his father, enjoying his pleasure. "Do you think there is anything else that your friend Strong would suggest?" The lad looked critically about. "Only one thing, and perhaps that is not necessary after all. But doesn't it seem to you that the space over the fireplace needs a picture or something? It looks so bare!" "A picture! I had not thought of that. Yes, I see what you mean." "Just one picture," went on Peter. "Something that will show well from this end of the room when people come in." "Yes, it would certainly be a distinct improvement. We'll have a picture there." Peter raised his eyes shyly to his father's face. "I think it would be nice," he said, "to have a picture of you." "A picture of me! Pooh, pooh! Nonsense! The men see me often enough--too often, I fancy. Remember they do not care for me as you do. No, indeed! I could not think of sticking my own portrait up in my tanneries. I shouldn't want to see it myself." "I don't suppose you would," admitted Peter, reluctantly.