Perhaps you could lend me five
dollars?"
"I don't think I could. I think I shall have to say good-morning."
"I can't make anything out of him," said Jim to himself,
philosophically. "I wonder if he's got any money. Uncle Socrates
told me his uncle had cast him off."
Going up Broadway instead of down, it was not long before Jim met
Allan Roscoe and Guy, whom he immediately recognized. Not being
troubled with immodesty, he at once walked up to Mr. Roscoe and held
out his hand.
"Good-morning, Mr. Roscoe!" he said, in an ingratiating voice.
"Good-morning, young man. Where have I met you?" asked Allan Roscoe,
puzzled.
"At Smith Institute. I am the nephew of Mr. Smith."
"What! Not the nephew who--"
Mr. Roscoe found it hard to finish the sentence. He didn't like to
charge Jim with stealing to his face.
"I know what you mean," said Jim, boldly. "I am the one whom your
nephew charged with taking money which he took himself. I don't want
to say anything against him, as he is your nephew, but he is an
artful young--but no matter.
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