“That is well. Boys like you should sleep soundly. I would I were a boy again! Good-night, my dear young friend.”
“Good-night!”
Grant was soon asleep. An hour later Mr. Silverthorn, who had been lying quietly, lifted his head gently, and throwing off his blanket, rose to his feet.
He walked up to where Grant lay asleep.
“I wonder whether the boy has any money in his pocket?” he thought.
He went up softly to where Grant lay, and, kneeling down, quietly detached the blanket, so that Grant would be uncovered. Then he inserted his hand into his pocket, and drew out some silver change, about two dollars in all.
He looked at it with disappointment.
“Is that all he has?” he muttered. “It won’t pay me for my trouble.”
He was about to search his other pocket, but Grant stirred in his sleep, and, fearing he would awake, Dionysius rose hastily.
“I would try the others,” he said, “but I don’t dare to. If they should wake, they might murder me, particularly the young man. Now I will lie down again, and get up about four o’clock. I must have a little rest.”