to go to Chicago or New York,
or anywhere where there would be a broader field and large opportunities,
and he had broached the subject to Peter.

"I can't afford to go, Ernest," the old man would reply. "I must live on
the little I have, for I am too old to work."

"But I am young. I can work," the boy would answer.

"A boy like you couldn't earn much. Wait till I am dead, and then you can
go where you like."

This would always close the discussion, for Ernest did not like to
consider such a possibility. Peter represented his world, for he had no
one to cling to except the man whom he supposed to be his uncle.

Now, however, the time had come when he could go forth and enter upon a
career. Accordingly he declined Joe Marks' offer to take him into the
store. He understood very well that it was only meant in kindness, and
that he was not really needed.

"You don't need me, Joe," he said. "You are very kind, but there must be
real work for me somewhere."

"Well, my lad, I won't stand in your way, but I've known you a long time,
and I shall hate to lose sight of you."

"I'll came back some day, Joe--that is if I am prosperous and can."

"If you are not prosperous, if you fall sick and need a home and a friend,
come back then. Don't forget your old friend Joe Marks."

"I won't, Joe," said Ernest heartily.

"You've got another friend here, Ernest," added Luke Robbins. "I'm a poor
man, and my friendship isn't worth much, but you have it, all the same."

Ernest grasped the hands of both. He felt that each was a friend worth
having.

"You may be sure that I won't forget either of you," he said.

"When do you expect to go, Ernest, and where?" asked Joe Marks.

"I shall get away to-morrow, I think, but where I shall go I can't tell
yet."

"Do you need any money?"

"No; my uncle left me some."

Ernest had not yet secured the gold, but he knew exactly where it was, and
now that all his business was ended he felt that it was time to possess
himself of it. Accordingly, he took a spade from the house, and bent his
steps in the direction of the old oak tree.

He went alone, for he thought it best not to take anyone into his
confidence.

Arrived at the tree, Ernest measured off five feet in the direction
mentioned by Peter and began to dig. It did not take him long to reach the
box, for it was only a foot beneath the surface of the ground.

It proved to be a cigar box, for Peter was fond of smoking, though he