The Tin Box, and What it ContainedAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
The Tin Box, and What it Contained
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Diligence -- Juvenile fiction; Success -- Juvenile fiction; Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
It might strike the reader as curious that Philip began to be impatient
to have his father make the discovery. An impending blow always leads
to a state of suspense which is by no means agreeable. When the blow
falls, a certain relief is felt. So Philip knew that the discovery
would be made sooner or later, and he wanted to have the matter
settled, and clear himself at once from suspicion by diverting it to
Harry Gilbert.
In the hope that his father would find out his loss, he lingered round
the house through the afternoon, filling up the time as well as he
could. Usually, he would have passed at least a part of the time with
James Congreve, but the latter had gone to the city.
“Don’t you feel well, Philip?” asked his mother.
“Certainly! What makes you ask?”
“You don’t generally stay at home all the afternoon.”
“Oh, well, there isn’t anything going on in the village.”
“Where is that friend of yours who is staying at the hotel?”
“He went away this morning to the city.”
“Isn’t he coming back?”
“Oh, yes, I suppose so.”
“I suppose you feel lonely without him?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Have you seen anything of Uncle Obed lately?” asked Mrs. Ross, making
a wry face as she pronounced the word admitting the relationship.
“Yes; I saw him walking with the Gilbert boy the other evening.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“No; I just nodded. I don’t care about getting intimate with him. I
wish he’d leave town.”
“As likely as not, he’ll use up all his money, and then come on your
father for help.”
“I hope father won’t give him anything, then,” said Philip.
“I am willing that he should give him enough to get him back to
Illinois. He ought never to have left there. If he thinks we are going
to pay his board here, all I can say is that he is very much mistaken,”
said Mrs. Ross, pressing her thin lips together with emphasis.
“That’s the talk, ma! I am glad you don’t mean to be imposed upon. I
suppose old Wilkins thinks you are soft, and won’t see him suffer.
You’d better keep a stiff upper lip.”
“He will know me better after a while,” said Mrs. Ross.
The afternoon wore away, and supper came. Philip partook as usual, and
waited afterward in the confident expectation that his father would
open the small trunk. He was not mistaken.
Upon retiring to his special apartment, Colonel Ross took up the trunk,
and, producing the key, opened it.
It so happened that he was after some papers, and did not immediately
take up the envelope containing the government bonds. Philip was rather
afraid he wouldn’t, and ventured to remind him of them by a question.
“How many government bonds have you in that envelope, pa?” he asked.
“A little over a thousand dollars,” answered Colonel Ross.
“Will you let me look at one? I want to see how it looks.”
This question led the colonel to open the envelope. He took out a bond
and handed it to Philip.
“Are these coupons?” asked Philip, who knew perfectly well, but only
wanted to fix his father’s attention.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account