A shadow came over the mother's face. It was like taking from her her last hope.
"I was afraid you would not be repaid for going up to the city," she said.
"I made a pretty good day's work of it, nevertheless, mother. What do you say to this?" and he opened his wallet and showed her a roll of bills.
"Is that Mr. Crawford's money?" she asked.
"No, mother, it is mine, or rather it is yours, for I give it to you."
"Did you find a pocketbook, Ben? If so, the owner may turn up."
"Mother, the money is mine, fairly mine, for it was given me in return for a service I rendered a lady in New York."
"What service could you have possibly rendered, Ben, that merited such liberal payment?" asked his mother in surprise.
Upon this Ben explained, and Mrs. Barclay listened to his story with wonder.
"So you see, mother, I did well to go to the city," said Ben, in conclusion.