At the mention of the chief’s name Mr. Dexter’s brow clouded, and he exclaimed in what Bruce thought rather a contemptuous and disagreeable tone, “Well, if he is a true friend of yours, he won’t object to your making such a journey as I propose, and if he does object, I should think five thousand dollars would be worth more to you, than anything you’ve got here.” “I’ll ask him,” said the boy, “and let you know to-morrow. I don’t think he’ll put any obstacle in my way.” And with this understanding the two parted, the money-lender returning to his office, and Bruce going at once to lay the matter before his friends, Charley Weyman and the chief. Both these men declared, after careful consideration of his case, that he could not do better than accept Mr. Dexter’s proposition, provided that gentleman paid him in advance enough to cover the expenses of his journey to England and back. “You don’t risk anything, you see,” said Weyman, “and he does. He wouldn’t send you off on a wild-goose chase, if it cost him anything to do so. In fact, you’ve everything to gain and nothing to lose, and it’s not every day in the year that a boy like you gets the chance to travel in foreign parts at somebody else’s expense. Just tell him that you’re ready to go, and keep a sharp look-out for anything that may turn up.” The next day, accordingly, Bruce called on Mr. Dexter at his Eldridge Street office, and made known to him the decision of his friends. “I’m ready to go whenever you think best,” he added, “but, of course, as I haven’t any money, you will have to give me a return ticket, and money enough for my expenses while I’m there.” “Certainly, my boy,” said Mr. Dexter, with his most winning smile, “and as there is a steamer that sails next Saturday for Southampton, I will engage your passage on that. Get ready to sail at three o’clock on that day, and, meantime, I advise you to keep on at your regular work and not mention to anybody what I have told you. Some one might start up and contest that will and keep you out of your rightful dues for ten years. When you get your hands on the money, you may talk about it as much as you please.” And so the young boy returned to the truck quarters, and resumed his regular work, although he could scarcely drive out of his mind the wonderful intelligence that the money-lender had conveyed to him. Meantime, Samuel Dexter seated in his Eldridge Street office, was writing a long letter to the old gentleman who had driven him from his house. “There!” he exclaimed, as he sealed the envelope, “I think that letter will bring him to terms if nothing else will.” CHAPTER XXXVI.