CHAPTER V. — SAM'S FINANCES.
Sam did not find it quite so pleasant being in a place as he had anticipated. He had been accustomed to roam about the streets subject only to his own control. Now he was no longer his own master. He must go and come at the will of his employer. To be sure, his earnings were greater than in his street life, and he had a regular home. He knew beforehand where he was going to sleep, and was tolerably sure of a meal. But before the end of the first week he got out of money. This was not strange, for he had begun without any reserve fund.
On the third day he applied to Henry Martin for a loan.
"If you don't lend me some stamps, I'll have to go without breakfast," he said.
"When shall you get your first week's pay?" asked Henry.
"Saturday night, the boss said, though I didn't go to work till Wednesday."
"Then you need money for your meals today and to-morrow?"
"Yes," said Sam.
"I'll lend you a dollar if you'll be sure to pay me up to-morrow night."
"I'll do it, sure."
"There it is, then. Now, Sam, I want to give you a little advice."
"What is it?"
"To-morrow, after paying me and putting by enough to pay the rent of the room, you'll have two dollars and seventy-five cents left."
"So I shall," said Sam, with satisfaction.
"You mustn't forget that this has got to last you for meals for the next week."
"How much is it a day?"
"About forty cents."
"I guess I can make it do."
"I shall get along for two fifty, and you ought to find what you will have left enough."
"I've had to live on ten cents a day more'n once," said Sam.
"That's too little."
"I should think it was. I went to bed hungry, you bet!"
"Well, there's no need of being so economical as that. You've got to eat enough, or you won't be fit for work. You'll have to be careful, though, if you want to come out even."
"Oh, I can manage it," said Sam, confidently.
But Sam was mistaken. He proved himself far from a good calculator. On Sunday he gratified an unusually healthy appetite, besides buying two five-cent cigars. This made necessary an outlay of seventy-five cents. The next day also he overran his allowance. The consequence was that on Wednesday night he went to bed without a cent. He did not say anything about the state of his finances to Henry, however, till the next morning.
"Henry," he said, "I guess I'll have to borrer a little more money."
"What for?" asked his companion.
"I haven't got anything to buy my breakfast with."
"How does that happen?"
"I don't know," said Sam. "I must have lost some out of my pocket."
"I don't think you have. You have been extravagant, that's what's the matter. How much did you spend on Sunday?"
"I don't know."
"I do, for I kept account. You spent seventy-five cents. That's twice as much as you could afford."
"It was only for one day."
"At any rate, you have used up in four days as much as ought to have lasted you the whole week."
"I don't get enough pay," grumbled Sam, who was unprepared with any other excuse.
"There are plenty of boys that have to live on as small pay. I am one of them."
"Will you lend me some money?"
"I'll tell you what I will do. I'll lend you twenty-five cents every morning, and you'll have to make it do all day."
"I can't live on that. You spend more yourself."
"I know I do; but if you spend twice as much as you ought one day, you've got to make it up another."
"Give me the money for three days all at once," said Sam.
"No, I won't."
"Why not?"
"You'd spend it all in one day, and want to borrow some more to-morrow."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Then, you don't need it all the first day."
"You're mean," grumbled Sam.
"No, I'm not. I'm acting like a friend. It's for your own good."
"What can I get for twenty-five cents?"
"That's your lookout. You wouldn't have had to live on it, if you hadn't been too free other days."
In spite of Sam's protestations, Henry remained firm, and Sam was compelled to restrain his appetite for the remainder of the week. I am ashamed to say that, when Saturday night came, Sam tried to evade paying his just debt. But this his roommate would not permit.
"That won't do, Sam," he said. "You must pay me what you owe me."
"You needn't be in such an awful hurry," muttered Sam.
"It's better for both of us that you pay it now," said Henry. "If you didn't, you'd spend it."
"I'll pay you next week. I want to go to hear the minstrels to-night."
"You can't go on borrowed money."
"If I pay you up, I don't have enough to last me till next pay day."
"That's your lookout. Do you know what I would do if I was in your place?"
"What would you do?"
"I'd live on four dollars a week till I'd got five dollars laid aside."
"I'd like the five dollars, but I don't want to starve myself."
"It would be rather inconvenient living on four dollars, I admit, but you would feel paid for it afterward. Besides, Sam, you need some shirts and stockings. I can't keep lending you mine, as I have been doing ever since you came here."
"I can't afford to buy any."
"I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll buy some for you, if you'll agree to pay me up at the rate of fifty cents a week."
"All right!" said Sam, who was very ready to make promises. "Give me the money, and I'll buy some to-night."
"I'd rather go with you, and see that you get them," said Henry, quietly. "You might forget what you were after, and spend the money for something else."
Perhaps Sam recognized the justice of his companion's caution. At any rate, he interposed no objection.
I hope my young readers, who are used to quite a different style of living, will not be shocked on being told that Sam purchased second-hand articles at a place recommended by his roommate. Considering the small sum at his command, he had no choice in the matter. Boys who have to pay their entire expenses out of five dollars a week cannot patronize fashionable tailors or shirt makers. So for three dollars Sam got a sufficient supply to get along with, though hardly enough to make a display at a fashionable watering place.
Sam put the bundle, containing this important addition to his wardrobe under his arm, not without a feeling of complacency.
"Now," said Henry, "it will take you six weeks to pay me for these, at half a dollar a week."
"All right!" said Sam, carelessly.
He was not one to be disturbed about a debt and his companion was shrewd enough to see that he must follow Sam up, if he wanted to get his money paid at the periods agreed upon.
Henry Martin continued to devote a part of every evening to study. He tried to prevail upon Sam to do the same, but without success.
"I get too tired to study," said Sam, and while his roommate was at home he was in the habit of strolling about the streets in search of amusement.
On the next Tuesday evening he met a boy of his acquaintance, who inquired where he was going.
"Nowhere in particular," said Sam.
"Come into French's Hotel, and see them play billiards."
Sam complied.
There was one vacant table, and presently the other proposed a game.
"I can't afford it," said Sam.
"Oh, it won't be much. If you beat me I'll have to pay."
Sam yielded, and they commenced playing, Both being novices, the game occupied an hour, and Sam, who was beaten, found to his dismay that he had to pay sixty cents.
"It don't seem more'n fifteen minutes," he said to himself. "It's awful dear."
"So it is," said his companion; "but if you had beaten me you would have got off for nothing."
"I don't see how I'm goin' to live on five dollars a week," thought Sam, uncomfortably, "I wonder when they'll raise me."
CHAPTER VI. — SAM'S LUCK.
When towns and cities find their income insufficient to meet their expenditures, they raise money by selling bonds. Sam would gladly have resorted to this device, or any other likely to replenish his empty treasury; but his credit was not good. He felt rather bashful about applying to his roommate for money, being already his debtor, and, in his emergency, thought of the senior clerk, William Budd.
"Mr. Budd," he said, summoning up his courage, "will you lend me a dollar?"
"What for?" inquired the young man, regarding him attentively.
"I haven't got anything to pay for my meals the rest of the week," said Sam.
"How does that happen?"
"I can't live on five dollars a week."
"Then suppose I lend you a dollar, I don't see that you will be able to repay me."
"Oh, I'll pay you back," said Sam, glibly.
"Have you got any security to offer me?"
"Any security?" asked Sam, who was inexperienced in business.
"Yes. Have you got any houses or lands, any stocks or bonds, which you can put in my hands as collateral?"
"I guess not," said Sam, scratching his head. "If I had any houses, I'd sell 'em, and then I wouldn't have to borrer."
"So you can't get along on five dollars a week?"
"No."
"The boy that was here before you lived on that."
"I've had to pay a lot of money for clothes," Sam explained, brightening up with the idea.
"How much?"
"Well, I had to buy the suit I have on, and then I had to get some shirts the other day."
"How much does it cost you for billiards?" asked William Budd, quietly.
Sam started and looked embarrassed.
"Billiards?" he stammered.
"Yes, that's what I said."
"Who told you I played billiards?"
"No one."
"I guess you're mistaken, then," said Sam, more boldly, concluding that it was only a conjecture of his fellow clerk.
"I don't think I am. I had occasion to go into French's Hotel, to see a friend in the office, and I glanced into the billiard room. I saw you playing with another boy of about your age. Did he beat you?"
"Yes."
"And you had to pay for the game. Don't you think, as your income is so small, that you had better stop playing billiards till you get larger pay?"
"I don't play very often," said Sam, uneasily.
"I advise you not to let Mr. Dalton know that you play at all. He would be apt to think that you were receiving too high pay, since you could afford to pay for this amusement."
"I hope you won't tell him," said Sam, anxiously.
"No, I don't tell tales about my fellow clerks."
"Then won't you lend me a dollar?" inquired Sam, returning to the charge.
"I would rather not, under the circumstances."
Sam was disappointed. He had five cents left to buy lunch with, and his appetite was uncommonly healthy.
"Why wasn't I born rich?" thought Sam. "I guess I have a pretty hard time. I wish I could find a pocket-book or something."
Sam was a juvenile Micawber, and trusted too much to something turning up, instead of going to work and turning it up himself.
However, strangely enough, something did turn up that very afternoon.
Restricted to five cents, Sam decided to make his lunch of apples. For this sum an old woman at the corner would supply him with three, and they were very "filling" for the price. After eating his apples he took a walk, being allowed about forty minutes for lunch. He bent his steps toward Wall Street, and sauntered along, wishing he were not obliged to go back to the office.
All at once his eye rested on a gold ring lying on the sidewalk at his feet. He stooped hurriedly, and picked it up, putting it in his pocket without examination, lest it might attract the attention of the owner, or some one else who would contest its possession with him.
"That's almost as good as a pocket-book," thought Sam, elated. "It's gold—I could see that. I can get something for that at the pawnbroker's. I'll get some supper to-night, even if I can't borrer any money."
Some boys would have reflected that the ring was not theirs to pawn; but Sam, as the reader has found out by this time, was not a boy of high principles. He had a very easy code of morality, and determined to make the most of his good fortune.
When he got a chance he took a look at his treasure.
There was a solitary diamond, of considerable size, set in it. Sam did not know much about diamonds, and had no conception of the value of this stone. His attention was drawn chiefly to the gold, of which there was considerable. He thought very little of the piece of glass, as he considered it.
"I'd orter get five dollars for this," he thought, complacently. "Five dollars will be a great help to a poor chap like me. I'll go round to the pawnbroker's just as soon as I get out of the store."
William Budd was rather puzzled by Sam's evident good spirits. Considering that he was impecunious enough to require a loan which he had been unable to negotiate, it was rather remarkable.
"Have you succeeded in borrowing any money, Sam?" he asked, with some curiosity.
"No," answered Sam, with truth; "I haven't asked anybody but you."
"You don't seem to mind it much."
"What's the use of fretting?" said Sam. "I'm expecting a legacy from my uncle."
"How much?"
"Five dollars."
"That isn't very large. I hope you won't have to wait for it too long."
"No, I hope not. I guess I'll get along."
"Did you get any lunch?"
"Yes, I bought three apples."
"Did they fill you up?" asked Budd, with a smile.
"There's a little room left," answered Sam, "if you'd like to try the experiment."
"There's a peanut, then."
"Thankful for small favors. I'm afraid it'll be lonely if you don't give me another."
"Take that, then; it's the last one I have."
"He's a good-natured boy, after all," thought the young clerk. "Some boys would have been offended with me for having refused to lend."
He did not understand the cause of Sam's good spirits, but thought him unusually light hearted.
When the office closed, and Sam was released from duty, he took his way at once to a small pawn office with which he had become familiar in the course of his varied career, though he had not often possessed anything of sufficient value to pawn.
The pawnbroker, a small old man, a German by birth, scanned Sam attentively, regarding him as a possible customer.
"How do you do, my boy?" he said, politely.
"Oh, I'm tiptop. Have you got any money to give away?"
"What shall I give it for?" asked the old man.
"I've got a ring here," said Sam, "that I want to pawn."
"Show it to me."
The pawnbroker started in surprise and admiration when his eye fell on the sparkling brilliant.
"Where did you get it?" he asked.
"It was left by my grandmother," said Sam, promptly.
The pawnbroker shrugged his shoulders, not believing a word of the story.
"Isn't it a nice ring?" asked Sam.
"So so," answered the old man. "I have seen much better. How much do you want for it?"
"How much will you give me?"
"Two dollars," answered the old man.
"Then you won't get it," said Sam. "You won't get it for a cent under five."
"That is too much," said the old man, from force of habit. "I'll give you four."
"No, you won't. You'll give me five; and I won't sell it for that, neither. I may want to get it back, as it was my aunt's."
"You said your grandmother left it to you," said the old man, shrewdly.
"So she did," answered Sam, unabashed; "but she left it to my aunt first. When my aunt died it came to me."
Without dwelling upon the efforts which the pawnbroker made to get the ring cheaper, it is sufficient to say that Sam carried his point, and marched out of the store with five dollars and a pawn ticket in his pocket.
CHAPTER VII. — TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS REWARD.
Henry Martin was rather surprised at not receiving from Sam another application for a loan that evening. He had watched Sam's rate of expenditure, and decided that he must be at the bottom of his purse. He was surprised, therefore, to find that his roommate ordered an unusually expensive supper, and paid for the same out of a two-dollar bill.
"I didn't think you were so rich, Sam," he remarked.
"I can manage better than you think I can," said Sam, with an important air.
"I am glad to hear it. I want you to get along."
"I guess I'll get along. Here's the fifty cents I was to pay you this week."
"You were not to pay it till Saturday."
"Never mind. I'll pay it now."
Henry Martin was surprised, but his surprise was of an agreeable character. He was convinced that Sam must have obtained money from some other quarter, but decided not to inquire about it. He would wait till Sam chose to tell him.
"Are you going back to the room, Sam?" he inquired.
"No; I'm going to the theater. Won't you go, too?"
"No; I don't want to give up my studies."
"One evening won't matter."
"Perhaps not, but I will wait till some other time."
"You must have a sweet time working all day, and studying all night," said Sam, rather contemptuously.
"Not quite all night," answered Henry, smiling.
"You don't take any time for amusement."
"I am looking forward to the future. I want to rise in the world."
"So do I; but I ain't going to kill myself with work."
"I don't think you ever will, Sam. I'll be willing to insure you from dying in that way."
Sam laughed. "I guess you're right there," he said. "Well, if you won't go, I'll leave you. I s'pose you'll be asleep when I get home, so good-night."
"Good-night, Sam," said Henry, good-humoredly.
"I wonder how soon he'll be wanting to borrow money again?" he thought.
The next morning, when Sam reached the office, he found William Budd glancing at the Herald.
"You are late," said the young clerk.
"I was out late last evening," said Sam, apologetically.
"At a fashionable party, I suppose?"
"Not exactly. I was at the theater."
"I thought you were out of money yesterday."
"Oh, I raised a little."
"It seems to me you are rather extravagant for your means."
"I guess I'll come out right," said Sam, carelessly.
"By the way, you haven't found a diamond ring, have you?" asked Budd, his eyes fixed upon the paper.
Sam was startled, but his fellow clerk was scanning the paper, and did not observe his embarrassment.
"What makes you ask that?" Sam inquired.
"Nothing; only you'd be in luck if you did."
"Why would I?"
"Here's an advertisement from a man who has lost such a ring, offering twenty-five dollars reward to the finder."
"Twenty-five dollars!" ejaculated Sam, in excitement. "Does he say where he lost it?"
"Supposed to have been lost in Wall Street."
"Wall Street!" repeated Sam. "It must be the one I found," he thought.
"Yes; I don't suppose there's much chance of his getting it back again."
"Let me see the advertisement," said Sam.
"There it is," said Budd, handing him the paper.
Sam read it carefully, and impressed the address upon his memory—No. 49 Wall Street. The advertiser was John Chester.
"Are you going out to look for it?" asked William, in joke.
"I guess there wouldn't be much show for me. Probably somebody has picked it up already."
"No doubt."
"Shall I go to the post office?"
"Of course not till after you have swept the office. Did you expect me to do that?"
Sam probably never swept so quickly before. He was anxious to get out, and see what chance he had of earning the twenty-five dollars, for he was convinced that the ring advertised for was the one he had found. He was provoked to think he had been so quick in pawning it. If he only had it in his possession now he would have nothing to do but to call on Mr. Chester and receive twenty-five dollars. With that amount he would feel as rich as a millionaire. Now the problem was to get hold of the ring, and this, in Sam's circumstances, was not an easy problem to solve. Of the five dollars he had received from the pawnbroker he had but three left, and it was idle to expect to recover it unless he should pay the full price and the commission besides.
"What shall I do?" thought Sam, perplexed. "Here is a chance to make twenty dollars extra if I only had three dollars more."
A bright idea dawned upon him. If he would only get his week's wages in advance he would be able to manage. He would broach the subject.
"Do you think, Mr. Budd, Mr. Dalton would be willing to pay me my week's wages to-day instead of Saturday?" he inquired.
"I know he wouldn't. It's contrary to his rule."
"But it is important for me to have the money to-day," pleaded Sam. "Don't you think he would do it if I told him that?"
Budd shook his head.
"It wouldn't be a good plan to ask him," he said. "He would conclude that you were living beyond your means, and that he doesn't like."
"Couldn't you lend me the money?" asked Sam.
"I told you yesterday I couldn't, that is, I am not willing to. I don't approve of the way you spend your money."
"It's only for this time," said Sam. "I'll never ask you again."
"I may as well be frank with you," said the young man. "If you were economical, and were short o money from sickness, or any other cause which you could not control, I would say 'Yes'; but while you complain of your salary as insufficient, you play billiards, and spend the evening at the theater; and these things I don't approve. I didn't do that when I was in your position. How do I know but you want your money in advance to spend in the same way?"
"I don't," said Sam.
"What do you want of it, then?"
"The fact is," said Sam, "it's to get something out of the pawnbroker's."
"What is it?"
"It's—a coat," said Sam, forced to tell a lie.
"When did you pledge it?"
"Yesterday."
"And you spent the money going to the theater," said Budd, sarcastically.
"Yes," said Sam, confused.
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"I won't do it again, if you will lend me money to get it out."
"You can wait till Saturday, when you receive your wages. You have a coat on, and certainly cannot need the other. I didn't know that you had another, by the way."
Sam was beginning to see that he had only got himself into a scrape by his false statement, and he did not know how to extricate himself.
"I need it before Saturday," he said.
"Why do you? Won't this do?"
"The fact is," said Sam, "there's a fellow wants to buy it from me, and he wants it to-day, or he won't take it."
"Why do you want to sell your clothes, Sam?"
"Because I need the money."
"It seems to me you are managing very poorly. Rather than economize, you pawn your coat, and then try to sell it. So you are continually getting yourself into trouble."
"I know it," said Sam, "but I don't mean to do it again."
"If you'll take my advice you will leave your coat where it is till you are able to redeem it. Don't think of selling it, for a new one would cost you more than you will get for it."
This advice was good, but it did not apply to Sam's case, since he had no coat to pawn. It will easily be understood, therefore, that it proved unsatisfactory to him. He didn't reply, but finished his sweeping, and then, putting on his hat, he went to the post office for letters.
CHAPTER VIII. — AN UNEXPECTED OBSTACLE.
As Sam walked rapidly to the post office he tried to think of some way of raising the money he needed. If his credit had been better Henry Martin might have accommodated him; but Sam was conscious that he had not treated his roommate in such a way as to inspire confidence. Then it occurred to him that he might obtain the ring back by giving the pawnbroker what money he had, and leaving his vest on deposit with him. At any rate, it would do no harm to try.
There was no time to go round to the pawnbroker's now, for his employer was very particular about receiving his letters promptly, and so great a delay might lead to his dismissal. He waited, therefore, until dinner time and then went round.
The pawnbroker recognized him at once, and regretted to see him. He knew the value of the ring, and was afraid Sam wished to redeem it.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, pretending not to know him.
"I was here yesterday," said Sam. "Don't you remember me?"
"I have so many come in I can't remember them all."
"But I left a ring here."
"A ring?" repeated the pawnbroker, vacantly. "What kind of a ring?"
"A ring with a stone set in it."
"Oh? you left it here."
"Yes, and you gave me five dollars on it."
"Did I? Then I gave you too much."
Sam was glad to hear this. Evidently the man, so he thought, did not understand the value of the ring, and would be glad to let him have it again. It was for his interest to let him think so.
"I guess you're right," he said. "The ring wasn't worth much, but my grandfather left it to me, and so I like it."
"You said it was your grandmother yesterday," remarked the pawnbroker, shrewdly.
"Did I? Well, it's all the same," said Sam, getting over the little difficulty. "I should like to have it again."
"Have you got the receipt?" asked the pawnbroker, to gain time.
"Yes, I've got it here."
The man looked discomfited, but Sam's next words freed him from anxiety.
"I want to ask of you a favor," said Sam. "I haven't got money enough here, but I'll pay you what I've got and bring you the rest tomorrow."
"Oh, no, you won't," said the old man, smiling, and wagging his head. "Do you think I am a fool? That isn't the way I do business, my boy."
"But I swear to you I will bring you the money," said Sam, earnestly. "I'll give you a little extra besides, to pay you for waiting."
"You are very kind," said the pawnbroker, revealing his yellow teeth in a cunning smile; "but I can't do it."
Sam had one other resource.
"Then," he proposed, "I'll pay you all the money I have, and give you my vest besides to keep till to-morrow."
"How much money have you got?"
"Three dollars."
"And your vest is worth about twenty-five cents."
"Twenty-five cents!" repeated Sam, looking insulted. "Do you think I would wear a twenty-five cent vest?"
"It is all it is worth to me. I lent you five dollars, and you want to put me off with three dollars and a quarter."
"But I would come round to-morrow and give you the money."
"Shall you have the money to-morrow?" inquired the dealer.
"Yes," answered Sam.
"Where will you get it?"
"I ain't obliged to tell that. It don't make no difference to you."
"Well, if you get the money to-morrow you can come round to-morrow," said the old man, with the air of one who had announced his ultimatum.
"But I want it to-day, particular," persisted Sam.
"Why do you want it to-day, particular?" asked the pawnbroker, looking curious.
"I'm going to a party to-night," said Sam, whose imagination was always to be relied upon. "I want to wear the ring there."
"Did you expect to go to the party without a vest?" queried the old man.
"Oh, I've got another at home," said Sam, composedly.
"You'll have to do without the ring till you bring me the money," said the pawnbroker, finally.
Sam saw from his manner that he was in earnest, and as perplexed as ever he left the shop.
"What am I going to do now?" he thought. "It's a shame to give up the reward on account of that mean old man. Why can't he trust me, I'd like to know? Does he think I would cheat him?"
Then a new fear disturbed Sam.
The pawnbroker might see the reward, and himself go to the advertiser and claim it.
"I wonder whether he takes the Herald?" thought our hero.
Something must be done, and at once. It was quite impossible to let such a golden chance slip by. So, finally, he determined to see Henry Martin, and if absolutely necessary tell him the whole story, and get him to accompany him to the pawnbroker's shop.
On his way back he happened to overtake Henry in the street, and broached the subject to him. Henry listened to him attentively.
"So that is where you got your supply of money from, Sam?" he said.
"Yes."
"I thought you must have raised some somewhere, or you would have been borrowing of me."
"I want to borrow three dollars of you now, or three fifty, to make sure I have enough."
"You had no right to pawn that ring, Sam. You ought to have remembered that it was not yours."
"I couldn't help it. I was out of money. Besides, I didn't know whose it was."
"It was your duty to find out, or try to find out."
"Could I go round the city asking everybody if the ring belonged to them?"
"No, but you could have advertised it in some paper.".
"How could I when I was dead broke? You know I couldn't."
"Well, what do you propose to do now?"
"I want you to lend me money enough to get back the ring. Then I'll go round to Wall Street and return it and get the twenty-five dollars reward, and pay you back every cent I owe you."
Henry reflected.
"I don't know but that's the best way," he said; "but I must go with you to see that it's all right."
"Of course you can. I want you to," said Sam, relieved.
"We can't go now, for there isn't time. Come into my place as soon as you get away, and we'll go round together."
"All right, Henry. You're a trump, and no mistake. I thought you'd help me out."
Sam's cheerfulness returned, and he went to work with more alacrity. All the afternoon he was forming plans for the disposal of the reward when it came into his hands.
About a quarter after five the two boys entered the pawnbroker's office.
The latter was not particularly pleased to see Sam, and his countenance showed it.
"I guess I'll take that ring, mister," said Sam, in an independent tone.
"What ring?"
"Oh, you know well enough."
"Have you brought the money?"
"Yes; I've got it here."
"It will be five dollars and a half."
"That is too much, but I'll give it to you; so just hand it over."
"Wait a minute, my friend," said the pawnbroker. "Where did you get the ring?"
"I've told you already."
"You said your grandmother left it to you; but I don't believe it."
"I can't help what you believe. Just hand it over."
"I have a strong suspicion, my young friend, that it is stolen."
"It's a lie!" said Sam, angrily.
"I'm not sure about that. I think I'll call a policeman."
Here Henry Martin interfered.
"Did you think it was stolen when you advanced money on it?" he asked.
"Yes, I did," said the pawnbroker. "Your friend's story was too thin."
"Then," said Henry, quietly, "you've got yourself into trouble. You can be arrested for receiving stolen goods."
The pawnbroker turned pale. He knew very well that he was in a dilemma.
"My friend didn't tell you the truth," continued Henry. "He found the ring, and now he has found the owner. He wants to return it, and that is why he is here. Unless you give it up, I will myself call a policeman."
Henry's quiet, assured manner produced its effect. With great reluctance the pawnbroker produced the ring, the charges were paid, and the two boys retired triumphant.