"Yes, sir, that is just where it is. And Bob has gone off to sea and I can't get it till he comes back."
"I don't know what makes you think that Bob's coming back," said Joe, uneasily. "If he can come back from sea his father will come, too."
"That's what I look for," said Hank. "I expect to see Bob and his father walking along these streets."
"Mebbe he will, and mebbe he won't. But that's neither here nor there. Now, Hank, I want you to give me some of the money."
"I can't. Nobody can get it except Bob."
"And does the law allow you to take any money you may find and give it to another to take charge of for you?"
"I don't know whether it does or not. I did it, anyhow."
"Well, Hank," said Joe, with a sigh of resignation, "you have undone all the good that I have done you for years. When you was a little fellow I took care of you and sent you to school, and this is the way you repay me. I hope that money will bring anything but blessings to you as often as you touch it."
So saying, Joe turned on his heel and walked away toward the village, and Hank and his mother kept on toward home. When they reached the gate they turned and looked after Joe. He was walking along with his head down, and one would think he had lost the last friend he had upon earth. They went into the house, and Hank sat down in his father's accustomed place on the porch.
"Well, mother, what do you think of it?" asked Hank. When his father began to talk about what he had done for him the boy felt repentant, and almost wished that he had the money in his pocket to give him.