“In gold?” ejaculated Trafton.
“To be sure! He give me a two-and-a-half gold piece, and that wasn’t all. He dropped a ten-dollar gold piece by accident, but picked it right up.”
“You don’t mean it?” said the fisherman, astounded.
“Yes, I do. But I s’posed you knew all about it.”
“I only know what you’ve told me. The fact is that boy hasn’t a spark of gratitude. It seems he’s rolling in wealth and leaves me to get along as I can.”
“Nephews ain’t generally expected to provide for their uncles,” said Abner Sands dryly.
But John Trafton did not hear him. As he left the store an idea entered his mind. He knew that Robert had found a friend in the hermit, and he decided that the gold came from him.
If that was the case, the hermit must be rich. Who knows but he might have thousands of dollars in the cave? The fisherman’s eyes sparkled with greed and he was assailed by a powerful temptation. His credit at the tavern was about exhausted. What a pity he could not get some of the gold, which appeared to do its possessor so little good!