The youth had not even gone to bed. He had been sitting on a chair by the open window when he had heard his uncle coming upstairs, and to deceive his relative had jumped into bed and pulled the blanket up over him.
When Nat was thrust up the stairs his mind was in a tumult. He felt that his uncle was not treating him fairly—and he wanted his supper very much.
It is bad enough to have a real grievance of any kind—it is worse when one must bear it on an empty stomach. As he made his way to his room the boy was in a savage humor and fit to do almost any deed.
"Uncle Abner is getting worse every day!" he muttered to himself. "He treats me worse than I would treat a dog!"
Sitting by the open window Nat thought of many things—of the death of his parents, and of the taking off of his aunt—and of how his miserly uncle had treated him ever since.
"It's not fair!" he told himself, over and over again. "Uncle Abner doesn't believe in giving a boy a fair show. I wish I lived with somebody else."
The more he thought over the situation the more he felt that he ought not to stand such treatment. He felt that he was entitled to his supper, and also to some spending money if not to regular wages. At the present time he had not a cent in the world.
"If I had a few dollars I might strike out for myself," he reasoned. "But I haven't even a few cents. Wonder how I could raise a few dollars?"
As said before Nat's worldly possessions were few. In his room he had some trinkets from home and also an old silver watch which had belonged to his father.
"I might sell the watch," he thought, but then decided that it would be best to keep the heirloom.