“It looks good,” said the other, with what Tony thought to be a longing look.
I’ll share it with you, if you’ll let me sleep here to-night,” said Tony.
The old man was a miser, as Tony suspected. He was able to live comfortably, but he deprived himself of the necessaries of life in order to hoard away money. His face revealed that to Tony. He had nearly starved himself, but he had not overcome his natural appetites, and the sight of Tony’s supper gave him a craving for it.
I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “If I let you sleep here, you might get up in the night and rob me.”
“You don’t look as if you had anything worth stealing.”
“You’re quite right,” said old Ben Hayden. “I’ve only saved a little money—a very little—to pay my funeral expenses. You wouldn’t take that.”
“Oh, no,” said Tony. “I wouldn’t take it if you’d give it to me.”
“You wouldn’t? Why not?”
“Because you need it yourself. If you were a rich man it would be different.”
“So it would,” said old Hayden. “You’re a good boy—an excellent boy. I’ll trust you. You can stay.”