"And he never will marry," said little Elspeth, almost fiercely; "will
you, Tommy?"
"Never!" said Tommy, patting her and glaring at Pym.
But Pym would not have it. "Married!" he shouted. "Magnificent!" And
he dipped exultantly, for he had got his idea at last. Forgetting even
that he had an amanuensis, he wrote on and on and on.
"He smells o' drink," Elspeth whispered.
"All the better," replied Tommy, cheerily. "Make yourself at home,
Elspeth; he's the kind I can manage. Was there ever a kind I couldna
manage?" he whispered, top-heavy with conceit.
"There was Grizel," Elspeth said, rather thoughtlessly; and then
Tommy frowned.
CHAPTER II
THE SEARCH FOR THE TREASURE
Six years afterwards Tommy was a famous man, as I hope you do not need
to be told; but you may be wondering how it came about. The whole
question, in Pym's words, resolves itself into how the solemn little
devil got to know so much about women. It made the world marvel when
they learned his age, but no one was quite so staggered as Pym, who
had seen him daily for all those years, and been damning him for his
indifference to the sex during the greater part of them.
It began while he was still no more than an amanuensis, sitting with
his feet in the waste-paper basket, Pym dictating from the sofa, and
swearing when the words would not come unless he was perpendicular.
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