He could not make up his mind to part with his precious dollar so soon. As long as he had it, he felt like a man of property. When it was once changed, he would once more be a poor boy.
In spite of the storekeeper's persuasions, he walked out with his money intact, leaving the coveted fishing-pole behind.
Now it so happened that his uncle, who never allowed anything to pass unnoticed, saw from the window Sam come out of the store, which was nearly opposite.
"What business has he there, I wonder?" he said to himself.
Five minutes later he made an errand to visit the store himself.
"Good-day, Mr. Wolverton," said Gordon Locke, deferentially.
"Good-day, Locke! Didn't I see my nephew, Sam, come out of here just now?"
"Like as not you did. He was here."
"What business had he here?"
"He was looking at them fishin'-rods."