Tip sat close by, watching every mouthful in a hungry way, but refusing the portion Tim offered him.
Now that the feast was fast fading away into only a remembrance, the thought of where he was to spend the night began to trouble Tim again, and he asked, anxiously, "Sure your father will let me sleep in the barn?"
Before the candy had been purchased, the fat boy had been perfectly sure Tim could sleep in his father's barn, but now that the dainty was in his possession, he began to have some doubts on the subject.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," he said, his mouth so full of candy that Tim could hardly understand him. "Father an' mother will be in bed when we get home, an' it won't be any use to bother 'em. You come right up stairs to bed with me, an' we'll fix it in the morning."
"I'd rather ask them, an' sleep in the barn," said Tim, not half liking this plan.
"But they'll be asleep, an' you can't," was the quiet reply.
"Then I'd rather go in the barn anyway."
"Now see here," said Sam, with an air of wisdom, as he sucked the remaining particles of candy from his fingers, "I know father an' mother better 'n you do, don't I?"
"Yes," replied Tim, glad that Sam had made one statement with which he could agree.