As he spoke, he put the bonds into his mother’s hands.
“But, Harry, they are yours. I cannot accept them.”
“Take care of them, at any rate, mother, and use the interest. I shall like it better than to keep them myself.”
“You are a good boy, Harry,” said Uncle Obed. “I like to see boys think considerable of their mothers. And now, if you are both ready for dinner, I am.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Wilkins. I was so intent upon Harry’s story that I am afraid the dinner is cold.”
They sat down to dinner, and the meal was a very happy one, even if the dishes were somewhat cold. Harry’s good luck put them all in fine spirits.
After dinner Harry went out into the village, in the direction of the store.
I suspect he wanted to show his watch, as most boys do when for the first time they become the proud possessor of one.
On the way he met Philip Ross and James Congreve. The latter he had not seen since they parted in the wood.
“There’s our young captive, Philip,” said Congreve.