When Tom emerged from the office, and was once more in the hurry and bustle of Wall Street, it is very doubtful whether, in that street of millionnaires and men striving to become such, there was a single one who felt so fabulously wealthy as she.
CHAPTER XXI
TOM FALLS INTO THE ENEMY’S HANDS.
Tom found herself the possessor of seven dollars and fifty cents, including the quarter which she owed to Mrs. Murphy for money advanced. It was not yet eleven o’clock. She decided to call on Mrs. Murphy, pay back the loan, and inform her of her good luck.
Mrs. Murphy was seated at her stand, keeping a sharp lookout for customers, when she espied Tom approaching.
“Have you sold your papers, Tom?” she asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Murphy. Here’s the money I borrowed of you.”
“Keep it longer; you’ll maybe nade it. I aint afraid to trust you.”
“I don’t need it. I have been lucky. See there!” and Tom displayed a roll of bills.
“Where’d ye get all them?” asked the apple-woman, in amazement.
“A gentleman paid me a gold piece for a ‘Herald,’ and wouldn’t take any change.”