“There’s just one thing about it,” said Tom to himself, after he had looked at the matter from all points and arrived at what he considered to be a perfectly satisfactory conclusion, “his money will soon be wasted—if it hasn’t been wasted already—and now that he has found me, he will naturally expect me to help him; but I can’t do it, and I won’t, and he might as well know it first as last. How much money did you bring away from Eaton with you?” he asked aloud.
“About eleven hundred dollars,” replied Oscar, who knew that his brother was very far from suspecting the real facts of the case. “And I left five hundred behind me.”
“Good for you!” exclaimed Tom. “You made a bigger haul than I did. You kept that five hundred to fall back on, I suppose. I wish I had been sharp enough to do the same. What did you do with the rest?”
“I saved every cent of it, except what I was obliged to spend.”
This answer almost took Tom’s breath away, and caused him to make a radical change in the programme he had marked out for himself.
Oscar did not fail to see it all, for Tom’s thoughts could be easily interpreted by the expression of his face.
“I don’t gamble, you know, and neither am I given to drink,” continued Oscar.
“Do you mean to say that I am?” demanded Tom, once more pausing in his walk.
“I do, for your face says so. No one ever saw a total abstainer with such eyes and such cheeks as you are carrying about with you to-day. Now, Tom, it may be to your interest to tell me all about yourself. I arrived at the fort no longer ago than yesterday morning, but I have already started one disgusted runaway on the road toward home, and I am able to help you.”
These words removed a heavy load of anxiety from Tom’s mind. His brother was willing to help him.