"Humph! Hibbert looks more like a boy who has run away from home with his father's wardrobe." Certainly, as he hurried toward them, Mr.Hibbert did look youthful.
He couldn't have been more than twenty-two---perhaps he was a year younger than that.

He was not very tall, nor very stout.
His round, rosy, cherubic, smoothly shaven face made him look almost girlish.

He was faultlessly, expensively dressed, though on this hot July afternoon a black frock coat and high silk hat looked somewhat out of keeping with the day's weather report.
"I just wanted to ask you boys to do me something of a favor," Mr.Alonzo Hibbert went on.
"Name the favor, please," urged Tom with drawling gentleness.
"Can you tell me what shop that is over there ?" inquired Mr.Hibbert, pointing, with a dapper cane, across the street.
"That is Anderson's Ice Cream Emporium," Tom answered gravely.
"Let's go over there," proposed Mr.Hibbert smiling, as he glanced from one face to another.
"That proposition was just before the house, and was voted down," Tom continued.
"What was the matter, boys ?" demanded young Mr.Hibbert beamingly.
"Didn't you have the price ?" "On the contrary, we had the price," Reade answered, as gravely as ever.

"However, after discussion, we decided that we had other uses for our capital." "But I haven't any other uses for my present capital," pursued Mr.Hibbert, as smiling as ever.

"So come along, please." Instead of jumping at the offer, Dick's partners regarded the man in the four-quart hat with some doubt.