He could hardly have guessed how completely his errand had been understood by the six boys, or how closely Ford Foster had "hit it." Said he, in reply to an angry remark from Dab Kinzer,-- "It's all humbug.

They run this concern to make money, and they want some of ours.

Mr.Marigold'll be sent right back with our soup." He was right; but, before they had eaten their way to the pie and pudding, Ford was dignifiedly informed,-- "If you please, sah, my name isn't Mr.Marigold, sah, it is Mr.
Bellerington, sah; an' my first name isn't Coffee, sah, it's Augustus." "You don't say," replied Ford: "well, Augustus, don't forget the little remark I made about pie and the other things." It was a capital dinner; and Ford was proud of it, for he had picked out every item of it, from the soup to the macaroons.

Dick Lee had enjoyed it hugely, after he began to feel that his first social victory had been fairly won for him.

Still, he had doubts in his own mind as to whether he would ever dare such another undertaking with less than five white boys along to "see him through." Joe and Fuz ate well; but their spirits were manifestly low, for they were painfully conscious of having forever lost the good opinion of that mulatto waiter.
"But for Dick Lee's being with us," they thought, "he and everybody else would have known we were gentlemen.