“I gave it to mother.”
“You’d ought to have given it to me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where’s the other dollar?”
“It’s in my vest pocket.”
Seth Tarbox thrust his fingers into the pocket of Grant’s vest, and drew out two silver half-dollars. It was better than nothing, but he felt disappointed.
“I’ll take this,” he said, “to pay for your time.”
“You are welcome to it, but don’t you think you could spare me one half-dollar?” asked Grant meekly.
“When you’ve gone and spent twenty for a suit? No, I guess not. You can think yourself pretty lucky to get as much as you did.”
Seth Tarbox took the candle, and went slowly down stairs. Grant was so much amused by the way in which he had outwitted his step-father that he laughed loud enough for Mr. Tarbox to hear.