"Just give me the money to keep for you. Then if he searches you, he won't find it."
If Jim expected this suggestion to be adopted, he undervalued Sam's shrewdness. That young man had not knocked about the streets eight months for nothing.
"I guess not," said Sam, significantly. "Maybe I wouldn't find it any easier if you took it."
"You don't call me a thief, do you?" demanded Jim, offended.
"It looks as if we was both thieves," said Sam, candidly.
"You needn't talk so loud," said Jim, hurriedly. "There's no use in tellin' everybody that I see. I don't want the money, only, if the old man finds it, don't blame me."
"You needn't be mad, Jim," said Sam. "I'll need the money myself. I guess I'll have to hide it."
"Do you wear stockin's?" asked Jim.
"Yes; don't you?"
"Not in warm weather. They aint no good. They only get dirty. But if you wear 'em, that's the place to hide the money."