Facing the World | Page 6

would not find out how large a sum he had received.
When dinner was over, Harry was about to leave the house, when John Fox said,
insinuatingly: "Don't you think you'd better give me that money to keep for you? It will
be safer in my hands."
"Thank you, Mr. Fox," said Harry, "but I think I can take care of it myself."
"Fifteen dollars is a good deal of money for a boy like you to carry round with you," said
his guardian.
"I don't think I shall lose it, sir," replied the boy.
"Perhaps not, but you will be tempted to spend it wastefully."
John Fox didn't look amiable. He was in doubt whether he might not properly take from
his ward the money by force, but it occurred to him that it would be better not to assert
his authority quite so soon.

"We will speak of this again," he said.
"It is well I didn't bring all the money home. I wonder how soon Mr. Fox will make
another attempt to secure the sum I have with me," thought Harry.
The attempt was made that same night.
Harry was afraid he would be expected to occupy the same room with Joel, in which case
he could hope for no privacy, and would be unable to conceal his money, which he had
little doubt his guardian intended to secure, either by fair means or foul. It chanced,
however, that Joel slept in a small bedroom opening out of his parents' chamber. So
Harry was assigned an attic room, in the end of the house, the sides sloping down to the
eaves. It was inferior to the chambers on the second floor, but our hero was not disposed
to complain. He valued solitude more than superior finish.
Harry's suspicion was roused by the circumstance that his guardian did not again refer to
his money, nor did he manifest any disappointment at his ward's declining to intrust him
with it.
During the evening, Joel brought out a backgammon board, and proposed to Harry to
play. If there would have been anything to read Harry would have preferred entertaining
himself in that way, but Mr. Fox didn't appear to be literary. There were a few books in
the house, but they were not of an attractive character.
Partly in backgammon, partly in conversation with the son and heir of the Foxes, the time
passed till half-past eight o'clock.
"Joel, you can go to bed," said his mother. "It is half-past eight."
Joel yawned, and interposed no objection.
"You may as well go, too, Harry," said Mrs. Fox.
"I am ready to go to bed," said Harry.
In fact, he felt rather sleepy, and anticipated little pleasure in sitting up in the far from
exciting company of Mr. and Mrs. Fox.
"Joel!" said his mother, "take this candle and show Harry upstairs in the attic chamber."
"Yes, mam."
So, preceded by Joel, Harry went up two flights of stairs to the attic room reserved for
him. It was the only room that had been finished off, and the garret outside looked dark
and forbidding.
"I would be scared to sleep up here," said his companion.
"I shall not be at all frightened, Joel," said Harry.

"Good-night. Just hold the candle while I go downstairs."
When he was fairly all alone, Harry began to look about him, to ascertain in what kind of
quarters he was to pass the night. To begin with he examined the door, he ascertained that
it was a common latch door, and there was no lock. There was nothing to prevent anyone
entering the room during the night. There was a small cot bed in one corner, a chair, and
an old wooden chest. There was no bureau nor washstand. The absence of the latter
annoyed Harry.
He learned afterward that he was expected to go downstairs and wash in a large basin in
the kitchen sink--wiping his face on a brown, roll towel which was used by the entire
family. This was quite unsatisfactory to Harry, who was scrupulously neat in his tastes.
"This isn't a palace exactly," Harry said to himself.
Then came the thought, "What was he to do with his money?"
Now, it so happened that Harry was the possessor of two pocketbooks--one--shabby, and
well worn, which he had failed to throw away on buying another just before he left home.
In connection with this, a scheme for outwitting Mr. Fox came into his mind. He folded
up a fragment of newspaper, and put it into the old pocketbook, bulging it out till it
looked well filled, and this he left in the pocket of his pantaloons.
"Now to hide the other," said he to himself.
He looked about the room seeking for some place