Three days later the entire sum given him by his aunt was gone.
When Harold made the discovery, he sighed. His dream was over. It had been pleasant as long as it lasted, but it was over too soon.
"Now I must go back to my mean allowance," he said to himself, in a discontented tone. "Aunt Eliza might give me ten dollars every week just as well as not. She is positively rolling in wealth, while I have to grub along like a newsboy. Why, that fellow Luke has a great deal more money than I."
A little conversation which he had with his Uncle Warner made his discontent more intense.
"Hello, Harold, what makes you look so blue?" he asked one day.
"Because I haven't got any money," answered Harold.
"Doesn't your mother or Aunt Eliza give you any?"
"I get a little, but it isn't as much as the other fellows get."
"How much?"
"Two dollars a week."