"I will," said Sam, desperately.
The two boys approached the apple-stand.
"I say," said Sam to the wrinkled old woman who presided over it, "how do you sell your apples?"
"A penny a piece," she answered, in a cracked voice. "Is that cheap enough for ye?"
"I'll take five," said Sam.
The old woman began eagerly to pick out the required number, but stopped short when he finished the sentence,—"if you'll trust me till afternoon."
"Is it trust ye?" she ejaculated suspiciously. "No farther than I can see yer. I'm up to your tricks, you young spalpeen, thryin' to chate a poor widder out of her money."
"I'll pay you sure," said Sam, "but I haven't earned anything yet to-day."
"Then it's I that can't be supportin' a big, strong boy like you. Go away and come back, whin you've got money."
Here Tim broke in.