"But it seems like robbing you."
"Don't you trouble yourself about that. You think I am poor, perhaps?"
"You don't look as if you were rich," said Oliver, hesitating.
"No, I suppose not," said Mr. Bundy slowly. "I don't look it, but I am worth fifty thousand dollars—in fact, more."
Oliver looked surprised.
"You wonder that I am so rough-looking—that I don't wear fine clothes, and sport a gold watch and chain. It aint in my way, boy. I've been used to roughing it so long that it wouldn't come nat'ral for me to change—that's all."
"I am glad you are so well off, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver heartily.
"Thank you, boy. It's well off in a way, I suppose, but it takes more than money to make a man well off."
"I suppose it does," assented Oliver, but he privately thought that a man with so much money was "well off" after all.
"Suppose, after twenty years' absence, you came back to your old home and found not a friend left,—that you were alone in the world, and had no one to take the least interest in you,—is that being well off?"