While this struggle was going on in the purchaser’s mind Sam fidgeted around, standing first on one foot and then on the other, watching every movement Tim made, while Tip searched over every portion of the store, very much to Mr. Coburn’s annoyance.
The decision was finally made, but not before Mr. Coburn hinted that he could not afford to burn a quart of oil in order that his customers might see how to spend two cents, and, with a peppermint stick in one hand and a lemon stick in the other, Tim left the store, followed by Sam and preceded by Tip.
To make a fair division of the sweet feast was quite as great a task as the purchase had been, and it was begun in the gravest manner.
The two sticks were carefully measured, and by the aid of Sam’s half-bladed jack-knife, broken at the proper place. A large rock by the side of the road served as a seat, and there the two boys munched away as slowly as possible, in order that the feast might be prolonged to the utmost.
Tip sat close by, watching every mouthful in a hungry way, but refusing the portion Tim offered him.
Now that the feast was fast fading away into only a remembrance, the thought of where he was to spend the night began to trouble Tim again, and he asked, anxiously, “Sure your father will let me sleep in the barn?”
Before the candy had been purchased the fat boy had been perfectly sure Tim could sleep in his father’s barn; but now that the dainty was in his possession he began to have some doubts on the subject.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he said, his mouth so full of candy that Tim could hardly understand him. “Father an’ mother will be in bed when we get home, an’ it won’t be any use to bother ’em. You come right up-stairs to bed with me, an’ we’ll fix it in the morning.”
“I’d rather ask them, an’ sleep in the barn,” said Tim, not half liking this plan.