"That depends on how riches are counted," said the old man cautiously, "and who does the counting. King Solomon, now, might consider me but an old pauper."
John went on with his dinner thoughtfully.
"Are you wondering what I am going to do with my money?" asked the old man, watching him closely.
John looked him straight in the face.
"I expect you're going to leave it to me," he said.
"Ah!" said his grandfather. "And who has been talking to you now? Who told you that?"
"Oh, Johnson and Roberts and Mrs. Wilkins. Mrs. Wilkins says you'll give it me in a will," said John carelessly.
"Who the dickens is Mrs. Wilkins?"
John opened his eyes widely. Not to know Mrs. Wilkins was indeed to argue oneself unknown.
"Why the lady at the store next our school," he said. "She sells pea-nuts and chewing gum and everything."