Harold paid down the dollar, and went out of the pawn broker's with a gold watch, and chain of the same color, with only two dollars left of his ill-gotten money. This was somewhat inconvenient, but he rejoiced in the possession of the watch and chain.
"Now Ralph Kennedy can't crow over me," he soliloquized. "I've got a gold watch as well as he."
As he left the pawnbroker's, he did not observe a familiar face and figure on the opposite side of the street. It was Warner Powell, his mother's brother, who recognized, with no little surprise, his nephew, coming from such a place.
"What on earth has carried Harold to a pawn broker's?" he asked himself.
Then he caught sight of the watch chain, and got a view of the watch, as Harold drew it out ostentatiously to view his new acquisition.
"There is some mystery here," he said to himself. "I must investigate."
He waited till Harold was at a safe distance, then crossed the street, and entered the pawnbroker's.
"There was a boy just went out of here," he said to the old man.
"Suppose there was," returned the pawnbroker, suspiciously.
"What was he doing here?"