“Yes; I’ve got some cowpons”—that’s the way the old man pronounced the word—“that you can get the money for.”
“Shall I have any difficulty about it, Uncle Obed?”
“No; you can go to a broker, and he’ll give you the money for it, taking out his commission. How much does it cost to go to New York?”
“The price of an excursion ticket is a dollar.”
The old man took from his pocket a two-dollar bill.
“There,” said he; “that’ll pay your ticket and get you some dinner.”
“But, Uncle Obed, you ought not to pay my expenses.”
“Why not? Ain’t you going on my business?”
“I’m going principally on my own,” said Harry.
“Well,” replied the old man, smiling, “then you must take it because I am your uncle.”