Brandon's back was turned to him, and our hero felt inclined to try the effect of a practical joke.
In a deep, sepulchral voice, he called out:
"What are you doing there?"
Brandon, taken by surprise, started as if he had been shot, and sprang to his feet in confusion. Turning to the bed, he saw Grit surveying him calmly. Then his natural hardihood restored his self-possession.
"Where do you keep your money, you young cub?" he demanded.
"Where do I keep it? I suspect you know well enough. Haven't you looked into my purse?"
"Yes, and I only found ten cents."
"Did you take it?" asked Grit.
"Yes."
"Then it's lucky I had no more in it."