“If he hears you’ve had any money give you, he’ll want to take care of it for you.”
This consideration had not occurred to Harry. Indeed, he had for so short a time been the possessor of the money, of which he did not know the amount, that this was not surprising.
“Well, good-morning!” he said.
“Good-morning! It’s been a lucky mornin’ for both of us.”
“I must go somewhere where I can count this money unobserved,” he said to himself.
Not far away he saw a ruined shed.
Harry entered the shed, and sitting down on a log, took out the bills, which he had hurriedly stuffed in his pocket, and began to count them.
“Almost three hundred dollars!” murmured Harry, joyously. “It has been, indeed, a lucky morning for me. It has nearly doubled my property.”
The question arose in his mind: “Should he give this money to Mr. Fox to keep for him?”
“No,” he decided, “I won’t give him this money. I won’t even let him know I have it.” Where, then, could he conceal it? Looking about him, he noticed a little, leather-covered, black trunk, not more than a foot long, and six inches deep. It was locked, but a small key was in the lock.