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'l