"He told me that it contained every cent he had saved in all these years."
"My!" cried Helen. "Then he must have lost a fortune! He has been a miser for forty years, so they say."
"I do not know about that," Ruth pursued. "He is harsh and—and he seems to be very selfish. He—he says I can go to school, though."
"Well, I should hope so!" cried Helen.
"But I don't know that I can go," Ruth continued, shaking her head.
"For pity's sake I why not?" asked her friend.
Then, out came the story of the lost trunk. Nor could Ruth keep back the tears as she told her friend about Uncle Jabez's cruelty.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Helen, almost weeping herself. "The mean, mean thing! No, I won't call him Ogre again; he isn't as good as an Ogre. I—I don't know what to call him!"
"Calling him names won't bring back my trunk, Helen," sobbed Ruth.
"That's so. I—I'd make him pay for it! I'd make him get me dresses for those that were lost."