"It isn't as if I really owed it to you. It is money I have lost at cards."
"If you are a boy of honor," said Reginald impressively, "you will feel that such debts ought to be paid above all others."
"Why should they?" asked Percy, and there will be many others who will be disposed to echo the question. "Why should gambling debts take precedence of honest obligations?" It is not necessary to repeat Reginald's explanation, as it was shallow and sophistical.
Two hours later Sam Doyle, a young Irish boy, espied, under a bush by the roadside, what seemed to be a letter. He picked it up, and, though his education was by no means extensive, he made out the name of Mr. Jones.
"Shure Mr. Jones must have dropped it out of his pocket," he said. "I'll carry it to him."
He entered the store, and attracted the attention of the grocer, who was behind the counter, and in a bad humor, smarting still from his loss of twenty dollars.
"Clear out, you Sam Doyle!" he said, "unless you want to buy something. I don't want any boys loafing round my store."
"Is this your envelope, Mr. Jones?" asked Sam, producing the envelope.
"Give it to me."
Mr. Jones read his name on the envelope in some wonder and tore it open. What was his amazement and delight when he saw the lost bill!