had a superstitious
dread of making a will.

"You're a terrible man!" she moaned. "You scare me."

"Come, aunt, be reasonable. You can leave part of your money away from
me if you like, but I want you to help me now. I'm hard up. Do you see
this nickel?" and he drew one from his vest pocket.

"Yes."

"Well, it's all the money I've got. Why, I haven't eaten anything
to-day, and I have no money to pay for a bed."

"I--I haven't any supper for you."

"I don't want any _here_. I wouldn't care to board with you, Aunt Jane.
Why, I should soon become a bag of bones like yourself. I don't believe
you've got five cents' worth of provisions in the room."

"There's half a loaf of bread in the closet."

"Let me take a look at it."

He strode to the closet and opened the door. On a shelf he saw half a
loaf of bread, dry and stale. He took it in his hand, laughing.

"Why, that bread is three days' old," he said. "Where's your butter?"

"I--I don't eat butter. Its too high!"

"And you don't care to live high!" said Jack, laughing at his own joke.
"I don't care to rob you of this bread. Aunt Jane. It's too rich for my
blood. Don't you ever eat anything else?"

"Sometimes," she answered, hesitating.

"I'd rather take my supper at the cheapest restaurant on the Bowery.
What I want is money."

Mrs. Mack uttered a little cry of alarm.

"Oh, don't go into a fit, aunt! I only want a little, just to get along
till I can find work. Give me twenty-five dollars, and I won't come near
you again for a month. I swear it."

"Twenty-five dollars!" ejaculated Mrs. Mack in dismay. "Do you think I
am made of money?"

"I don't take you for an Astor or a Vanderbilt, Aunt Jane, but you've
got a tidy lot of money somewhere--that I am sure of. I shouldn't wonder
if you had five thousand dollars. Now where do you keep it?"

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" asked the old woman sharply.

"No, I haven't, but it looks to me as if you had. But I can't waste my
time here all night. I'm your only relative, and it's your duty to help
me. Will you let me have twenty-five dollars or not?"

"No, I won't," answered Mrs. Mack angrily.

"Then I'll take the liberty of helping myself if I can find where you
keep your hoards."

Jack Minton jumped up from his chair and went at once to a cheap bureau,
which, however, was probably the most valuable article in the room, and
pulling out the top drawer, began to rummage about among the contents.