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"I never listened to such language," returned the squatter. "I should like it read three times a day, before meals. But if it's my advice you want, Bob, you can have it. Meanwhile, I'm very glad for you to have such a windfall, my boy."
Tommy and Norah had collapsed on each other's shoulders, speechless.
"Joy never kills, they say," said Wally, regarding them anxiously. "But it's been known to turn the brain, when the brain doesn't happen to be strong. Will we turn the hose on them, Jim?"
"Sit on him, Bob," came faintly from Norah.
"I will--with the weight of nine hundred pounds!" said Bob--and did so.
"Get off, you bloated capitalist," said Wally, struggling. He succeeded in dislodging him, with a mighty effort. "You're just purse-proud, that's what's the matter with you. What'll you do with it, Bobby--go racing? Or buy an aeroplane?"
"Get out of debt," said Bob, sitting up with rumpled hair and a face like a happy child's. "And there'll be a bit over to play with. What shall we put it into, Tommy? Want any pretty things?"
"Just merino sheep," said Tommy.
THE END
