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“No,” answered Johnny frankly, looking up at his uncle and shaking his head energetically., Happening to see his new paint-box with its enticing cakes of paint of all colors, Johnny Blossom in his night gown and bare feet was soon wholly absorbed in mixing paint., Finally it got too much for Bob and one day, taking his courage in both hands, he blurted forth, “Say, Whisk—Mr. Whitney, what’s gone wrong? Is it anything money won’t cure?” He held his breath awaiting the answer. It was a cheeky, nervy thing to do and if his boss did not take it the right way, he would be perfectly justified in sending him back to the horrible punishment of the draughting room. But he need not have worried. Mr. Whitney was too much of a big boy himself and had too much understanding not to realize that the question had been asked because anything that troubled him meant so much to the boy..