Dick, who was touched by this mark of confidence, thanked him awkwardly,
and although he felt bound to object that he might be unable to fill the
new post, Fuller stopped him.
"All you have to do is to lie off and take it easy until you get well. I
know a useful man when I see him and it won't pay me to let you go. When
I've fixed things with the President I'll make you an offer. Now
Stuyvesant's waiting for me and I understand my daughter is coming to see
you."
He went away and soon afterwards Ida Fuller came in. Dick rather
awkwardly got her a chair, for his shade, which was closely pulled down,
embarrassed him, but she noticed this, and his clumsiness made a strong
appeal. She liked Dick and had some ground for being grateful to him. For
half an hour she talked in a cheerful strain and Dick did his best to
respond, but she saw what the effort cost and went away in a thoughtful
mood.
Ida Fuller had both sympathy and self-confidence, and when things went
wrong with her friends seldom felt diffident about trying to put them
right. In consequence, she took Jake away from the others, whom her
father had asked to dinner that evening.
"What's the matter with Dick Brandon?" she asked.
"It's pretty obvious. His trouble began with broken ribs and may end with
the loss of his eye; but if you want a list of his symptoms----"
"I don't," said Ida. "Does his trouble end with the injury to his eye?"