givingly, "you
druv me out er it, by day, jest because I reckoned that some time I
might run into your darned fool face,"--another laugh and a grasp of
the hand,--"and then, b'gosh! not content with ruinin' my business _by
day_, when I took to it at night; _you_ took to goin' out at nights
too, and so put a stopper on me there! Shall I tell you what else you
did? Well, by the holy poker! I owe this sprained foot to your darned
foolishness and my own, for it was getting away from _you_ one night
after the theatre that I got run into and run over!

"Ye see," he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and
with a _naivete_, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's
own, "I had to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these
letters, because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you
mightn't like it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm,
don't yer see? I wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and
I don't mind tellin' you _now_, old man, that when I wrote you that
first chipper letter from the lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two
days. But it's all right _now_," with a laugh. "Then I got into this
business--thinkin' it nothin'--jest the very last thing--and do you
know, old pard, I couldn't tell anybody but you--and, in fact, I kept
it jest to tell you--I've made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars!
Yes, sir, _nine hundred and fifty-six dollars_! solid money, in Adams
and Co.'s Bank, just out er my trade."

"Wot trade?" asked Uncle Billy.

Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy
crossing-sweeper's broom. "That trade."

"Certingly," said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh.

"It's an outdoor trade," said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion
of awkwardness or apology in his manner; "and thar ain't much
difference between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over
tailing with a rake, _only--wot ye get_ with a broom _you have handed
to ye_, and ye don't have to _pick it up and fish it out er_ the wet
rocks and sluice-gushin'; and it's a heap less tiring to the back."

"Certingly, you bet!" said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a
certain nervous abstraction.

"I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd
tumble to my doing it, until I'd made my pile. And ef I hadn't made
it, I wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard--never!"

"Do you mind my runnin' out a minit?" said Uncle Billy, rising. "Y