By this time Grit had finished his breakfast.
"I must get to work, mother," he said. "I'll be home to dinner at the usual time, if I can."
"If not, I will save something for you, Grit."
The young boatman made his way to the river. Here an unpleasant surprise awaited him. His boat was not where he had left it. He looked in all directions, but it had disappeared.
"What can have become of it?" thought Grit, in perplexity.
CHAPTER XIII. GRIT'S BOAT IS SOLD.
Brandon was not usually an early riser, and would not on this occasion have got up so soon if a bright idea had not occurred to him likely to bring money to his purse.
It was certainly vexatious that Grit so obstinately refused to pay into his hands the money he had managed in some way unknown to his stepfather to accumulate. Perhaps some way of forcing the boy to do so might suggest itself, but meanwhile he was penniless; that is, with the exception of the dime he had abstracted during the night. Possibly his wife might have some money. He proceeded to sound her on the subject.