The truth was, Sam was not made of heroic mold. He was a timid boy and was easily overawed. He lacked entirely the qualities that made Bob so bold and resolute. He could admire his friend, but he could not imitate him.
"Now, come home," said Wolverton, shortly.
Sam followed his uncle meekly.
When they reached home Sam was set to work. At twelve o'clock the bell rang for dinner. Sam dropped his axe (he had been splitting wood) and entered the kitchen, where the frugal meal was spread. His uncle was already sitting in his place, and Sam prepared to sit down in his usual chair.
"Samuel," said his uncle, "you have disobeyed me. You do not deserve any dinner."
Sam's countenance fell, for he was very hungry.
"I am very hungry," he faltered.
"You should have thought of that when you disobeyed me and gave your money to the Burton boy. This is intended as a salutary lesson, Samuel, to cure you of your stubbornness and disobedience."
"You are quite right, Aaron," said Miss Sally in her deep voice. "Samuel needs chastening."
Poor Sam slunk out of the door in a state of depression. Not being ordered to return to his work, he went out into the street, where he met Bob and Clip, and to them he told his tale of woe.