"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." CHAPTER XVIII. THE FALL RIVER BOAT.