In Search of Treasure

“Yes, that is the question.”

“What have you got to say for yourself?” demanded the deacon, sharply.

“Only that I was very glad to oblige my dear father.”

“I don’t mean that. Where did you get the money?”

“From my employer.”

“Aha! That’s what I thought. Don’t you know you’re likely to be arrested for makin’ such poor use of your employer’s money?”

“But you’re mistaken, Deacon Crane. It was not my employer’s money.”

“Just now you said it was.”

“No, I didn’t. I said I got it from my employer. The money was mine.”

“Do you mean to say he gave it to you?”

“Yes, but not as a gift. I was and am still in his employ.”

“And I s’pose he gives you five or six dollars a week. You can’t save any five hundred dollars out of that.”

“That’s true, Deacon Crane. You are a good mathematician. He pays me very handsomely.”

“How old be you?”

“Seventeen.”

“All that I can say is that he must be a fool to pay a big salary to a boy like you, and you are very foolish to give up all the money you have to your father.”

“I have a little money left,” said Guy, smiling. “If, now, you were in a tight place, I might be able to lend you a hundred dollars.”

“I am never in a tight place,” returned the deacon, proudly, “but I think it would be wise and prudent for you to put the money in my hands for safe keeping. I’ll be willin’ to pay you three per cent.”

“Thank you, Deacon Crane, but I can do better than that.”

“You seem to be a very reckless boy, Guy Fenwick. You don’t seem to have no judgment. You won’t keep that money long.”

“I am afraid, Deacon Crane, you haven’t much confidence in me.”

“No, I haven’t. Your father ain’t practical, and you take after him.”

Guy smiled and passed on.

During the afternoon he fell in with Noah Crane, who had heard from his father the astonishing news about Guy’s prosperity. It influenced that young man to seek an intimacy with his fortunate schoolfellow.

“I say, Guy,” he began, “is it true that you’ve got a lot of money? Pop tells me you’ve been lending your father five hundred dollars.”

“That is true.”

“And you offered to lend pop one hundred dollars.”

“But he declined.”

“It’ll be all the same if you lend it to me,” said Noah, eagerly.

“What do you want to do with it?”

“I want to buy a bicycle. I can get a safety, second-hand, for seventy-five dollars.”

“How could you pay me back?”

“I guess I can get the money out of father next year. Do now, that’s a good fellow.”

“If you can get for me your father’s note of hand for the money and interest, say on a year’s time, I might consent to do it.”

“But he won’t give it to me.”

“Then I can’t lend you the money.”

Noah pleaded, but in vain.

Five minutes later Guy had a pleasant surprise. Coming up the road from the station he met Captain Grover of the Osprey.

CHAPTER XXII

THE CAPTAIN OF THE OSPREY

“Guy, my son!” said Captain Grover, his face lighting up with unmistakable joy. “It does me good to see you again. Why, you’re quite two inches taller than when we parted at Bombay.”

“Yes, captain; I think I have grown,” returned Guy, complacently. “When did you get back?”

“Only last week. You are here almost as soon as I. Have you got through working for Mr. Saunders?”

“Oh, no. I am still in his employ. I went to England to attend to some business for him, and I am now in America on the same errand.”

“And does he make it worth your while?”

“Yes,” answered Guy, smiling. “I won’t go into particulars. I haven’t done that even with my father. I will tell you, however, that since I have been home I have paid off a five hundred dollar mortgage on the parsonage.”

“That is capital! Evidently Mr. Saunders is a liberal man; and I am sure I am very glad, not only for your sake, but for the sake of my old friend, your father. How long do you stay in Bayport?”

“That depends partly upon you.”

“How is that?”

“I may be your passenger on your next voyage.”