Harry shook his head. "I shall save it up to carry home."
"Well, you must try to make my place good in the shop."
"He can do that," said Mr. Leavitt, slyly; "but there's one place where he can't equal you."
"Where is that?"
"At the dinner table."
"You've got me there, father," said Bob, good-naturedly. "Well, good-by all, here's the stage."
In a minute more he was gone. Harry felt rather lonely, for he had grown used to working beside him. But his spirits rose as he reflected that the time had now come when he should be in receipt of an income. Three dollars a week made him feel rich in anticipation. He looked forward already with satisfaction to the time when he might go home with money enough to pay off his father's debt to Squire Green. But he was not permitted to carry out his economical purpose without a struggle.
On Saturday evening, after he had received his week's pay, Luke Harrison, who worked in a shop near by, met him at the post office.
"Come along, Harry," he said. "Let us play a game of billiards."
"You must excuse me," said Harry.