"I would if the money belonged to me."
"Does Peggy know yer went in there?" asked Tim, slyly.
"Don't tell her, Tim! I was so hungry."
"Then treat!"
"I can't, Tim!"
"All right!" replied Tim, nodding. "I'll let Peggy know how you spend her money."
Poor Johnny! These last words alarmed him terribly.
Lyman Taylor's stock of money was getting low. He was not a good financial manager. But even if he had been, he would not have been able long to live without work. When his stock of ready money was reduced to five dollars, he began to consider anxiously where he could obtain a further supply. It is not strange that his thoughts should have reverted to his uncle.
"I wonder if Uncle Anthony is well fixed or not. He got considerable money in California, but may have lost it. The old man is close-mouthed, and I can't worm the secret out of him. If I had any hold on him——" continued Lyman, thoughtfully.
He sauntered along till he came to a pool-room, connected with a cheap hotel, of the kind he was in the habit of frequenting. No one chanced to be playing, and by way of filling up the time he took up a St. Louis paper, and ran his eye listlessly over it.