I stammered at the thing, feeling my cheeks blaze, but no two words would stay still long enough to be related.

I glanced a piteous appeal to authority, while old Leggett, still standing by, crumpled his shaven upper lip into a professional sneer that I did not like.
"That will _do_, Calvin.

Sit down! Solon Denney, you may go on." With careless confidence, brushing the long brown lock from his fair brow, came Solon Denney to his feet.

With flawless self-possession he read, and I, disgraced, cowering in my seat, heard words that burned little inconsequential brands forever into my memory.

Well do I recall that the middle-aged gentleman regarded the young man with a look of surprise, and inquired, "What security can you give me ?" to which the latter answered, "Nothing but my note." "'Which I fear would be below par in the market,' replied the merchant, smiling.
"'Perhaps so,' said the young man, 'but, Mr.Barton, remember that the boy is not the man; the time may come when Hiram Strosser's note will be as readily accepted as that of any other man.' "'True, very true,' replied Mr.Barton, thoughtfully, 'but you know business men seldom lend money without adequate security; otherwise they might soon be reduced to penury.'" "Benny Jeliffe, you may go on!" During this break I stole my second look at her.