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
