Part 33 (1/2)
”Maybe I'll never be able to pay you.”
”S'pose you don't,” said d.i.c.k; ”I guess I won't fail.”
”I won't forget it, d.i.c.k. I hope I'll be able to do somethin' for you sometime.”
”All right,” said d.i.c.k. ”I'd ought to help you. I haven't got no mother to look out for. I wish I had.”
There was a tinge of sadness in his tone, as he p.r.o.nounced the last four words; but d.i.c.k's temperament was sanguine, and he never gave way to unavailing sadness. Accordingly he began to whistle as he turned away, only adding, ”I'll see you to-morrow, Tom.”
The three dollars which d.i.c.k had handed to Tom Wilkins were his savings for the present week. It was now Thursday afternoon. His rent, which amounted to a dollar, he expected to save out of the earnings of Friday and Sat.u.r.day. In order to give Tom the additional a.s.sistance he had promised, d.i.c.k would be obliged to have recourse to his bank-savings. He would not have ventured to trench upon it for any other reason but this. But he felt that it would be selfish to allow Tom and his mother to suffer when he had it in his power to relieve them. But d.i.c.k was destined to be surprised, and that in a disagreeable manner, when he reached home.
CHAPTER XXI
d.i.c.k LOSES HIS BANK-BOOK
It was hinted at the close of the last chapter that d.i.c.k was destined to be disagreeably surprised on reaching home.
Having agreed to give further a.s.sistance to Tom Wilkins, he was naturally led to go to the drawer where he and Fosd.i.c.k kept their bank-books. To his surprise and uneasiness _the drawer proved to be empty!_
”Come here a minute, Fosd.i.c.k,” he said.
”What's the matter, d.i.c.k?”
”I can't find my bank-book, nor yours either. What's 'come of them?”
”I took mine with me this morning, thinking I might want to put in a little more money. I've got it in my pocket, now.”
”But where's mine?” asked d.i.c.k, perplexed.
”I don't know. I saw it in the drawer when I took mine this morning.”
”Are you sure?”
”Yes, positive, for I looked into it to see how much you had got.”
”Did you lock it again?” asked d.i.c.k.
”Yes; didn't you have to unlock it just now?”
”So I did,” said d.i.c.k. ”But it's gone now. Somebody opened it with a key that fitted the lock, and then locked it ag'in.”
”That must have been the way.”
”It's rather hard on a feller,” said d.i.c.k, who, for the first time since we became acquainted with him, began to feel down-hearted.
”Don't give it up, d.i.c.k. You haven't lost the money, only the bank-book.”
”Aint that the same thing?”
”No. You can go to the bank to-morrow morning, as soon as it opens, and tell them you have lost the book, and ask them not to pay the money to any one except yourself.”