Luck and Pluck; or, John Oakley's Inheritance

by Jr. Horatio Alger

"You'll see plain enough if you come upstairs," said her husband. "He got out of the window."

"Jumped out?" gasped Mrs. Huxter.

"Slid down by the bed-cord, you fool!" said her husband, who was too angry to be polite.

"I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Huxter, in a tone indicating her surprise.

"Did you advise him to run away?" asked Mr. Huxter.

"Of course not."

"And did you know nothing of his going? Didn't he tell you?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Not a word. But I'm glad he's gone,—I really am."

"You're glad we've lost six dollars a week, are you?" growled her husband. "You'd like to see us starvin', I suppose. But you needn't be in such a hurry to be glad. I'll have him back yet, and then if he doesn't get the tallest kind of a flogging, that'll sicken him of running away forever, my name is not Huxter."