CHAPTER VI.
SAM'S LUCK

When towns and cities find their income insufficient to meet their expenditures, they raise money by selling bonds. Sam would gladly have resorted to this device, or any other likely to replenish his empty treasury; but his credit was not good. He felt rather bashful about applying to his roommate for money, being already his debtor, and, in his emergency, thought of the senior clerk, William Budd.

"Mr. Budd," he said, summoning up his courage, "will you lend me a dollar?"

"What for?" inquired the young man, regarding him attentively.

"I haven't got anything to pay for my meals the rest of the week," said Sam.

"How does that happen?"

"I can't live on five dollars a week."

"Then suppose I lend you a dollar, I don't see that you will be able to repay me."

"Oh, I'll pay you back," said Sam, glibly.

"Have you got any security to offer me?"

"Any security?" asked Sam, who was inexperienced in business.

"Yes. Have you got any houses or lands, any stocks or bonds, which you can put in my hands as collateral?"

"I guess not," said Sam, scratching his head. "If I had any houses, I'd sell 'em, and then I wouldn't have to borrer."

"So you can't get along on five dollars a week?"

"No."

"The boy that was here before you lived on that."

"I've had to pay a lot of money for clothes," Sam explained, brightening up with the idea.

"How much?"

"Well, I had to buy the suit I have on, and then I had to get some shirts the other day."

"How much does it cost you for billiards?" asked William Budd, quietly.

Sam started and looked embarrassed.

"Billiards?" he stammered.

"Yes, that's what I said."

"Who told you I played billiards?"

"No one."

"I guess you're mistaken, then," said Sam, more boldly, concluding that it was only a conjecture of his fellow clerk.

"I don't think I am. I had occasion to go into French's Hotel, to see a friend in the office, and I glanced into the billiard room. I saw you playing with another boy of about your age. Did he beat you?"

"Yes."

"And you had to pay for the game. Don't you think, as your income is so small, that you had better stop playing billiards till you get larger pay?"

"I don't play very often," said Sam, uneasily.

"I advise you not to let Mr. Dalton know that you play at all. He would be apt to think that you were receiving too high pay, since you could afford to pay for this amusement."

"I hope you won't tell him," said Sam, anxiously.

"No, I don't tell tales about my fellow clerks."

"Then won't you lend me a dollar?" inquired Sam, returning to the charge.

"I would rather not, under the circumstances."

Sam was disappointed. He had five cents left to buy lunch with, and his appetite was uncommonly healthy.

"Why wasn't I born rich?" thought Sam. "I guess I have a pretty hard time. I wish I could find a pocket-book or something."

Sam was a juvenile Micawber, and trusted too much to something turning up, instead of going to work and turning it up himself.

However, strangely enough, something did turn up that very afternoon.

Restricted to five cents, Sam decided to make his lunch of apples. For this sum an old woman at the corner would supply him with three, and they were very "filling" for the price. After eating his apples he took a walk, being allowed about forty minutes for lunch. He bent his steps toward Wall Street, and sauntered along, wishing he were not obliged to go back to the office.

All at once his eye rested on a gold ring lying on the sidewalk at his feet. He stooped hurriedly, and picked it up, putting it in his pocket without examination, lest it might attract the attention of the owner, or some one else who would contest its possession with him.

"That's almost as good as a pocket-book," thought Sam, elated. "It's gold – I could see that. I can get something for that at the pawnbroker's. I'll get some supper to-night, even if I can't borrer any money."

Some boys would have reflected that the ring was not theirs to pawn; but Sam, as the reader has found out by this time, was not a boy of high principles. He had a very easy code of morality, and determined to make the most of his good fortune.

When he got a chance he took a look at his treasure.

There was a solitary diamond, of considerable size, set in it. Sam did not know much about diamonds, and had no conception of the value of this stone. His attention was drawn chiefly to the gold, of which there was considerable. He thought very little of the piece of glass, as he considered it.

"I'd orter get five dollars for this," he thought, complacently. "Five dollars will be a great help to a poor chap like me. I'll go round to the pawnbroker's just as soon as I get out of the store."

William Budd was rather puzzled by Sam's evident good spirits. Considering that he was impecunious enough to require a loan which he had been unable to negotiate, it was rather remarkable.

"Have you succeeded in borrowing any money, Sam?" he asked, with some curiosity.

"No," answered Sam, with truth; "I haven't asked anybody but you."

"You don't seem to mind it much."

"What's the use of fretting?" said Sam. "I'm expecting a legacy from my uncle."

"How much?"

"Five dollars."

"That isn't very large. I hope you won't have to wait for it too long."

"No, I hope not. I guess I'll get along."

"Did you get any lunch?"

"Yes, I bought three apples."

"Did they fill you up?" asked Budd, with a smile.

"There's a little room left," answered Sam, "if you'd like to try the experiment."

"There's a peanut, then."

"Thankful for small favors. I'm afraid it'll be lonely if you don't give me another."

"Take that, then; it's the last one I have."

"He's a good-natured boy, after all," thought the young clerk. "Some boys would have been offended with me for having refused to lend."

He did not understand the cause of Sam's good spirits, but thought him unusually light hearted.

When the office closed, and Sam was released from duty, he took his way at once to a small pawn office with which he had become familiar in the course of his varied career, though he had not often possessed anything of sufficient value to pawn.

The pawnbroker, a small old man, a German by birth, scanned Sam attentively, regarding him as a possible customer.

"How do you do, my boy?" he said, politely.

"Oh, I'm tiptop. Have you got any money to give away?"

"What shall I give it for?" asked the old man.

"I've got a ring here," said Sam, "that I want to pawn."

"Show it to me."

The pawnbroker started in surprise and admiration when his eye fell on the sparkling brilliant.

"Where did you get it?" he asked.

"It was left by my grandmother," said Sam, promptly.

The pawnbroker shrugged his shoulders, not believing a word of the story.

"Isn't it a nice ring?" asked Sam.

"So so," answered the old man. "I have seen much better. How much do you want for it?"

"How much will you give me?"

"Two dollars," answered the old man.

"Then you won't get it," said Sam. "You won't get it for a cent under five."

"That is too much," said the old man, from force of habit. "I'll give you four."

"No, you won't. You'll give me five; and I won't sell it for that, neither. I may want to get it back, as it was my aunt's."

"You said your grandmother left it to you," said the old man, shrewdly.

"So she did," answered Sam, unabashed; "but she left it to my aunt first. When my aunt died it came to me."

Without dwelling upon the efforts which the pawnbroker made to get the ring cheaper, it is sufficient to say that Sam carried his point, and marched out of the store with five dollars and a pawn ticket in his pocket.

CHAPTER VII.
TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS REWARD

Henry Martin was rather surprised at not receiving from Sam another application for a loan that evening. He had watched Sam's rate of expenditure, and decided that he must be at the bottom of his purse. He was surprised, therefore, to find that his roommate ordered an unusually expensive supper, and paid for the same out of a two-dollar bill.

"I didn't think you were so rich, Sam," he remarked.

"I can manage better than you think I can," said Sam, with an important air.

"I am glad to hear it. I want you to get along."

"I guess I'll get along. Here's the fifty cents I was to pay you this week."

"You were not to pay it till Saturday."

"Never mind. I'll pay it now."

Henry Martin was surprised, but his surprise was of an agreeable character. He was convinced that Sam must have obtained money from some other quarter, but decided not to inquire about it. He would wait till Sam chose to tell him.

"Are you going back to the room, Sam?" he inquired.

"No; I'm going to the theater. Won't you go, too?"

"No; I don't want to give up my studies."

"One evening won't matter."

"Perhaps not, but I will wait till some other time."

"You must have a sweet time working all day, and studying all night," said Sam, rather contemptuously.

"Not quite all night," answered Henry, smiling.

"You don't take any time for amusement."

"I am looking forward to the future. I want to rise in the world."

"So do I; but I ain't going to kill myself with work."

"I don't think you ever will, Sam. I'll be willing to insure you from dying in that way."

Sam laughed. "I guess you're right there," he said. "Well, if you won't go, I'll leave you. I s'pose you'll be asleep when I get home, so good-night."

"Good-night, Sam," said Henry, good-humoredly.

"I wonder how soon he'll be wanting to borrow money again?" he thought.

The next morning, when Sam reached the office, he found William Budd glancing at the Herald.

"You are late," said the young clerk.

"I was out late last evening," said Sam, apologetically.

"At a fashionable party, I suppose?"

"Not exactly. I was at the theater."

"I thought you were out of money yesterday."

"Oh, I raised a little."

"It seems to me you are rather extravagant for your means."

"I guess I'll come out right," said Sam, carelessly.

"By the way, you haven't found a diamond ring, have you?" asked Budd, his eyes fixed upon the paper.

Sam was startled, but his fellow clerk was scanning the paper, and did not observe his embarrassment.

"What makes you ask that?" Sam inquired.

"Nothing; only you'd be in luck if you did."

"Why would I?"

"Here's an advertisement from a man who has lost such a ring, offering twenty-five dollars reward to the finder."

"Twenty-five dollars!" ejaculated Sam, in excitement. "Does he say where he lost it?"

"Supposed to have been lost in Wall Street."

"Wall Street!" repeated Sam. "It must be the one I found," he thought.

"Yes; I don't suppose there's much chance of his getting it back again."

"Let me see the advertisement," said Sam.

"There it is," said Budd, handing him the paper.

Sam read it carefully, and impressed the address upon his memory – No. 49 Wall Street. The advertiser was John Chester.

"Are you going out to look for it?" asked William, in joke.

"I guess there wouldn't be much show for me. Probably somebody has picked it up already."

"No doubt."

"Shall I go to the post office?"

"Of course not till after you have swept the office. Did you expect me to do that?"

Sam probably never swept so quickly before. He was anxious to get out, and see what chance he had of earning the twenty-five dollars, for he was convinced that the ring advertised for was the one he had found. He was provoked to think he had been so quick in pawning it. If he only had it in his possession now he would have nothing to do but to call on Mr. Chester and receive twenty-five dollars. With that amount he would feel as rich as a millionaire. Now the problem was to get hold of the ring, and this, in Sam's circumstances, was not an easy problem to solve. Of the five dollars he had received from the pawnbroker he had but three left, and it was idle to expect to recover it unless he should pay the full price and the commission besides.

"What shall I do?" thought Sam, perplexed. "Here is a chance to make twenty dollars extra if I only had three dollars more."

A bright idea dawned upon him. If he would only get his week's wages in advance he would be able to manage. He would broach the subject.

"Do you think, Mr. Budd, Mr. Dalton would be willing to pay me my week's wages to-day instead of Saturday?" he inquired.

"I know he wouldn't. It's contrary to his rule."

"But it is important for me to have the money to-day," pleaded Sam.

"Don't you think he would do it if I told him that?"

Budd shook his head.

"It wouldn't be a good plan to ask him," he said. "He would conclude that you were living beyond your means, and that he doesn't like."

"Couldn't you lend me the money?" asked Sam.

"I told you yesterday I couldn't, that is, I am not willing to. I don't approve of the way you spend your money."

"It's only for this time," said Sam. "I'll never ask you again."

"I may as well be frank with you," said the young man. "If you were economical, and were short o money from sickness, or any other cause which you could not control, I would say 'Yes'; but while you complain of your salary as insufficient, you play billiards, and spend the evening at the theater; and these things I don't approve. I didn't do that when I was in your position. How do I know but you want your money in advance to spend in the same way?"

"I don't," said Sam.

"What do you want of it, then?"

"The fact is," said Sam, "it's to get something out of the pawnbroker's."

"What is it?"

"It's – a coat," said Sam, forced to tell a lie.

"When did you pledge it?"

"Yesterday."

"And you spent the money going to the theater," said Budd, sarcastically.

"Yes," said Sam, confused.

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"I won't do it again, if you will lend me money to get it out."

"You can wait till Saturday, when you receive your wages. You have a coat on, and certainly cannot need the other. I didn't know that you had another, by the way."

Sam was beginning to see that he had only got himself into a scrape by his false statement, and he did not know how to extricate himself.

"I need it before Saturday," he said.

"Why do you? Won't this do?"