“And Leon’s too!” exclaimed Tom. “You must have paid his stage and railroad fare out of that fund.”
“I did; but I shall have to replace it out of my own pocket.”
“You couldn’t lend me a hundred dollars, and replace it in the same way, I suppose?”
“No, I could not, for two reasons: In the first place, that mortgage must be paid, so that mother can be sure of a home of her own; and in the next, I don’t know how much money I shall need this winter. I must feed my guide as well as myself, and when we come back to the fort I must pay him cash in hand for his services. Then I have a pony, mule, and wagon to buy, and it will cost a snug sum to transport myself and the specimens I hope to procure to Eaton. Wouldn’t I be in a pretty fix if I should find my money was running short?”
“You could draw on that committee for more, couldn’t you?”
“No, I couldn’t. That wasn’t in the bargain.”
“What’s the odds? Take the risk. Tell them that you were robbed, or that your expenses were a little heavier than you thought they would be.”
“I’ll not tell a lie to please anybody,” said Oscar indignantly.
“Of course not! Of course not!” yelled Tom, who was so nearly beside himself with fury that he could not stand still even for a moment. “You were quite willing to help a boy who has slandered you, and to work yourself to death in order to win the approbation of strangers, but you wouldn’t give your needy brother fifteen cents to save him from starving.”
“I’ll tell you what I will do,” said Oscar, paying no heed to Tom’s remarks. “I will give you a suit of warm clothing and an overcoat, if you will accept them.”