CHAPTER XVII. — TIM IS UNMASKED.

 Before Sam had gone far Tim Brady managed to throw himself in his way.
 
"Where are you goin', now?" he asked. "Have you been to the bank?"
 
"Yes," answered Sam. "I lost one of them checks."
 
"You don't say!" said hypocritical Tim.
 
"It was the twelve-hundred-dollar one."
 
"What did the boss say? Did he blow you up?" inquired Tim, puzzled by Sam's cheerful manner.
 
"Yes; I'm 'bounced.'"
 
"You don't seem to care much," said Tim, watching him curiously.
 
"No, I don't. I'm tired of the old place."
 
"What are you goin' to do? Are you goin' back to boot blackin'?"
 
"No," answered Sam, scornfully; "I should say not."
 
"You ain't goin' to retire on a fortune, are you?"
 
"Look here, Tim," said Sam, displaying a roll of bills. "What do you say to that?"
 
"Did you save all that?" asked Tim, in great astonishment.
 
"No; Mr. Dalton just gave it to me."
 
"Give it to you when he 'bounced' you?"
 
"Yes; you see, I found his little boy in the street one day, and took him home. He give me a place for that, and now that I'm sacked he's give me this money."
 
"I say, Sam, you're in luck. How much is there?"
 
"Twenty-five dollars."
 
"You couldn't lend a feller five dollars?" said Tim, insinuatingly.
 
"Yes, I could," answered Sam, cooly; "but I won't."
 
"Why not?"
 
"I want it all myself."
 
"You might let me have a little," pleaded Tim.
 
"I'll give you a square meal," said Sam, "but I can't do no more. I'm goin' to Boston."
 
"What's put in into your head to go to Boston?"
 
"You have."
 
"Well, I hope you'll like it better than I do."
 
"Which way would you go?" asked Sam.
 
"Fall River line. They're got nice steamers."
 
"When do they go?"
 
"Five o'clock."
 
"All right. I'll go this afternoon."
 
"You'll be comin' back soon," said Tim.
 
"Maybe I will, but I want to see the place. I ain't never traveled much, and now I'm goin'."
 
"You'd better stay, and take me to Tony Pastor's to-night."
 
Sam shook his head.
 
"Oh, yes, you'd like me to spend all my money on you; but I don't see it."
 
"You needn't be so afraid. I've got some money, too," said Tim, nettled.
 
"You've got fifty cents, I s'pose."
 
"Does that look like fifty cents?"
 
Tim displayed the ten dollars he had received from Mr. Dalton for restoring the lost check.
 
Sam was astonished beyond measure.
 
"Where did you get that money?" he asked.
 
"It's some I had over when I failed,"
 
"And with all that money in your pocket you asked me for five dollars!" exclaimed Sam, with justifiable indignation.
 
"Why shouldn't I? Haven't you got more than I have?"
 
Tim began to see that he had made a mistake in proclaiming his riches; especially when Sam added that he might buy his own dinner—that he wasn't going to treat him.
 
"You promised you would," said Tim.
 
"I didn't know you had so much money. I thought you was hard up. You're a fraud."
 
"So are you," said Tim, resentfully.
 
"I don't want no more to do with you."
 
Tim was nettled. He wanted to be revenged, and his secret slipped out.
 
"You needn't feel so big," he said. "I got you 'bounced.'"
 
Here was much cause for astonishment.
 
"You got me 'bounced'?" repeated Sam, in surprise.
 
"Yes, I did. I found that check you dropped, and took it round to your boss. He give me this ten dollars, and 'bounced' you."
 
This was too much for Sam's equanimity. That a boy who had so injured him should try to wheedle money and a treat out of him struck him as so atrocious, that he felt action to be imperative. A sudden movement of the foot upset Tim; and Sam, without waiting to see how he relished his downfall, fled round a corner before Tim could retaliate.
 
"He's the meanest boy I ever knew!" thought our retreating hero. "He got me sacked, and then wanted me to treat him. I guess he won't ask me again."
 
Sam was still determined to go to Boston that afternoon. Before he went he wanted to say good-by to Henry Martin, and, as the boat would sail before business hours was over, he decided to go round to the store where he was employed.
 
Henry was just leaving the store on an errand when Sam came up. It was the first time they had met since Henry's discovery of Sam's attempt to appropriate his savings. He could hardly be expected to feel very friendly toward him.
 
"I'll walk along with you, Henry," said Sam; "I want to talk with you."
 
"And I want to talk with you," said Henry, coldly. "I've found out all about my bankbook."
 
"Have you?" replied Sam, disconcerted.
 
"Yes; I've found out that you opened my trunk and took it out, then went to the bank and tried to get twenty dollars on it. And all the while you were rooming with me, and pretending to be my friend."
 
Sam felt conscience-stricken. The enormity of his act flashed upon him. Still, he wanted to extenuate his conduct.
 
"It's true, Henry," he admitted, "and I ought to be ashamed of myself. But I didn't get any money, after all, and I returned the book to you."
 
"I know that; but it was only because they wouldn't let you have anything on it."
 
"Don't think too hard of me, Henry," said Sam.
 
"I can't help thinking hard of you. You wanted to rob me."
 
"I only wanted to borrow the money."
 
"Without my leave."
 
"I meant to return it to you as soon as I could. The fact is, Henry, I was awful hard up."
 
"That's your own fault. As for returning the money, I hope you don't think me quite such a fool as to believe that."
 
Sam was really disturbed. He saw that Henry was perfectly justified in being angry, and that his representation was the correct one.
 
"I'm very sorry I did it," he said. "I hope you'll forgive me."
 
"I'll forgive you, but we can no longer occupy the same room. I will move out and leave the room to you, or you can move out and leave the room to me."
 
"I'll move, Henry. That's what I came to speak to you about. I came to bid you good-by."
 
"There is no need of saying good-by. We shall see each other again."
 
"No, we shan't—for a good while, anyway. I'm just goin' to Boston."
 
"What?" exclaimed Henry in astonishment.
 
"I'm goin' on this afternoon."
 
"Why, Sam, what's up?"
 
Sam explained.
 
"I don't know whether it's a good plan," said Henry, when he had ended.
 
"Nor I," said Sam; "but I'm goin', anyway. If I don't like it, I'll come back somehow. Good-by!"
 
"Good-by, and good luck, Sam!" said Henry, offering his hand.
 
"Sam's a strange boy!" he said to himself, as he pursued his way alone. "It's hard to tell how he's coming out. I hope he'll get wiser as he grows older."