"I've got a little money, father. It's not much, I know, but it's something to go on with for a day or two. There it is."
Newton produced three well-worn dollar bills and some small change, which his father stared at in amazement.
"There's three dollars and seventy cents," he said. "And you told me you had four or five dollars left."
Before he sat down he piled the change neatly on the bills beside his father's plate; then he took his seat, very red indeed and looking at the table-cloth.
"Where on earth did you get it?" asked Overholt, leaning back in his chair.
"Well"--the boy hesitated and got redder still--"I didn't steal it, anyway," he said. "It's mine all right. I mean it's yours."
"Of course you didn't steal it!" cried John Henry. "But where did you get it? You haven't had more than a few cents at a time for weeks and weeks, so you can't have saved it!"
"I didn't beg it either," Newton answered.
"No! I wasn't going to borrow money I couldn't pay! I'd rather not tell you, all the same, father! At least, I earned twenty cents of it. That's the odd twenty, that makes the three seventy. I don't mind telling you that."
"Oh, you earned twenty cents of it? Well, I'm glad of that, anyhow. What did you do?"
"I sort of hung round the depôt till the train came in, and I carried a man's valise across to the hotel for him. He gave me ten cents. Some of the boys do that, you know, but I thought you wouldn't care to have me do it till I had to!"
"That's all right. It does you credit. How about the other ten cents?"
"Old Bangs saw me pass his shop, and he asked me to come in and said he'd give me ten cents if I'd do some sums for him. I guess he's pretty busy just now. He said he'd give me ten cents every day till Christmas if I'd come in after school and do the sums. His boy's got mumps or something, and can't. There's no harm in that, is there, father?"
"Harm! I'm proud of you, my boy. You'll win through--some day!"
It was the first relief from his misery the poor man had felt since he had read the letter about the overdraft in the morning.
"What I can't understand is the rest of the money," said Overholt.
Newton looked very uncomfortable again, and moved uneasily on his chair.
"Oh well, I suppose I've got to tell you," he said, looking down into his plate and very busy with his knife and fork. "Say, you won't tell mother, will you? She wouldn't like it."