“I didn’t use my check. I went to our bank first, and drew out all my money. I didn’t have enough left to put back, so I––well, I didn’t put it back.”
“What under heaven did you do with it?”
“I went down to an East River fish wharf, and–––”
“Took a corner on fish?”
“Harold, don’t think me foolish. Uncle Josiah had sold his boat, thinking to pay Father off and save his place. I–––”
“You bought back the old fellow’s boat!”
She nodded.
Harold did not laugh. Instead, he turned toward his desk and busily fumbled papers. When he spoke there was a note of tenderness in his voice. “You’re the best little sport in seventeen States.”
“Well, that doesn’t keep me from starving.”