“I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant.
“I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.”
“How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of it.
“Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly.
“I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't have been surprising.”
“I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I couldn't help that, now, could I?”
“I suppose not.”
“So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say, Grant—-”
“Well?”
“Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in, that's a good fellow.”