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Updated: May 11, 2025
"See if I'm going to lie awake all night and bother about it. I ain't going to use it, either. I don't believe I've got any right to, 'cause it ain't mine." By this time the ten dollar bill was very near the candle flame. Then it was suddenly drawn back, while a look of great perplexity appeared on Tode's face. "If it ain't mine what right have I got to burn it up, I'd like to know?
He had shuffled off the grog-shop, and fluttered into one of the brightest of Cleveland hotels. The bright-winged moth singes itself in the brilliant gaslight sometimes where the caterpillar never comes. Queer thoughts came into Tode's head with that suit of new clothes with which he presently arrayed himself. Not particularly new, either.
I've sold papers here for three years," cried Tode, angrily. "What you got to say?" The policeman turned to the other. "He give it up. He ain't sold a paper here for a week past," growled Carrots. "Whose beat is it?" The man turned to the other boys as he asked the question. "Reckon it's Tode's." "He's o'ny been layin' off fer a spell." "It's Tode's sure 'nough."
Suppose I take one. Do they go well with lemonade?" "First-rate, sir." And Tode's face was radiant with pleasure as he saw not only one but three of Winny's delicious cream cakes disappear. Then Mr. Birge took out his pocket-book.
To meekly submit to ill treatment and "take a blow" from a fellow whom he "could whip with his little finger" this was quite another and, to one of Tode's temperament, a far more distasteful thing. The boy had reached no conclusion when he finally went home to supper. He was silent and thoughtful all the evening, but it was not until the following day that he spoke of the matter to Nan.
That night he could not eat, and when he went to bed he could not sleep. "Thief! Thief! You're a thief! You're a thief!" Over and over and over again these words sounded in Tode's ears. He had known of course that he was a thief, but he had never realised it until this day. As he had sat there and listened to Mrs.
Down on the ground went Tode's stock in trade, and he fell upon Carrots like a small cyclone fighting with teeth, nails, fists and heels, striking in recklessly with never a thought of fear. Forgetful of possible customers, the boys quickly formed a ring, and yelled and hooted at the antagonists, cheering first one and then the other. But the contest was an unequal one.
Tode's eyes flashed. "I don't want to hang around you," he began as he turned to go. Then he stopped again; he was leaving the house for the last time. This one friend of his was out of sorts with him, wouldn't let him come again; and the little Dora, who had showed him about making all the letters and figures, he was to see no more.
Tode's trade, that day, was not very heavy, for it was not yet known among his regular customers that he had reopened his stand, but he took care to advertise the fact through those whom he met and he did not fear but that his business would soon be prospering again. That afternoon he succeeded in securing a tiny room in the house with Nan.
Presently came the conductor, and halted before him. Tode's hand sought his pocket. "How much to Syracuse?" he questioned; and being naturally told the rate of fare from their last stopping place to Syracuse, he counted it out and sat back at his leisure. At Syracuse Mr. Hastings went into the hotel to get his breakfast. Tode walked the piazza and whistled for his; besides he had something to do.
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