In sober earnest,
I haven't been practising magic these twenty-five years for nothing.
I can lend you the money you want, and I will."
Harry seized his hand, and shook it with delight.
"How can I express my gratitude?" he said.
"By sending me your paper gratis, and paying me seven per cent.
interest on my money."
"Agreed. Anything more?"
"Yes. I am to give an exhibition in the village to-morrow night.
You must give me a good puff."
"With the greatest pleasure. I'll write it now."
"Before it takes place? I see you are following the example of some
of the city dailies."
"And I'll print you some handbills for nothing."
"Good. When do you want the money? Will next week do?"
"Yes. Mr. Anderson won't expect the money before."
Here Ferguson entered the efface. Harry made a signal of silence to
the professor, whom he introduced. Then he said:--
"Well, Ferguson, what luck?"
"None at all," answered his fellow-compositor, evidently dispirited.
"Nobody seems to have any money. We shall have to give up our plan."
"I don't mean to give it up."
"Then perhaps you'll tell me where to find the money."
"I will."
"You don't mean to say--" began Ferguson, eagerly.
"Yes, I do. I mean to say that the money is found."
"Where?"
"Prof. Henderson has agreed to let us have it."
"Is that true?" said Ferguson, bewildered.
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