Tom was quite right when he said that his father could not understand the business; indeed, Mr. Newcombe was more than half inclined to believe that Tom did not understand it himself. If his prize failed to come to hand, he would earn the four hundred dollars to pay for the yacht by trading; but he was still depending upon the lottery to furnish the money to hire his crew and buy his first cargo. The merchant had never listened to such reasoning before, and it was no wonder he could not understand it.
"Tom," said he, at length, "are you really foolish enough to put faith in any such nonsense as this? Do you honestly believe that these men are what they represent themselves to be?"
"O yes, I do!" drawled Tom. "Their letter has a printed heading, just like yours."
"Then you believe they are honorable business men?"
"Yes, I do!" repeated Tom. "I am not afraid to trust them. Do you suppose that men who have agents in every civilized country on the globe dare cheat any body? I am going to send them the very next ten-dollar bill I get."
"Then I shall take care that you do not get one very soon," said the merchant. "That will do; I have nothing further to say to you at present."
"O, now, father," began Tom——
"We will not say any thing more about this just now," interrupted Mr. Newcombe.
"Now I am aground again," said Tom to himself, as he put on his cap and left the room. "If I don't get any more ten-dollar bills I must give up all hopes of ever getting one of those prizes. Something is always happening to bother me!"