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