"Are you going home now?" "Yes, sir." "Then I'll hand you a note for him. Will you think to give it to him?" "Yes, sir." "I would stop myself, but I haven't time this evening." "All right. I'll give it to him." "Take good care of it, for there's money in it," said the man, as he passed it to the boy. _Money in it!_ This attracted Sam's attention, and excited his curiosity. "I wonder how much there is in it," he thought to himself. "I wish it was mine. I could go to New York to-morrow if I only had it." With this thought prominent in his mind, Sam entered the house. Mrs. Hopkins was at the table knitting, but the deacon was not to be seen. "Where is the deacon?" asked Sam. "He's gone to bed," said Mrs. Hopkins. "Did you want to see him?" "No," said Sam, slowly. "It's time you were abed too, Sam," said the lady. "You're out too late, as I was tellin' the deacon to-night. Boys like you ought to be abed at eight o'clock instead of settin' up half the night." "I guess I'll go to bed now," said Sam, taking a lamp from the table. "You'd better, and mind you get up early in the mornin'." Sam did not answer, for he was busy thinking. He went upstairs, fastened his door inside, and taking out the letter surveyed the outside critically. The envelope was not very securely fastened and came open. Sam could not resist the temptation presented, and drew out the inclosure. His face flushed with excitement, as he spread out two five-dollar bills on the table before him. "Ten dollars!" ejaculated Sam. "What a lot of money! If it was only mine, I'd have enough to go to New York." CHAPTER IX. SAM TAKES FRENCH LEAVE. If Sam had been brought up to entertain strict ideas on the subject of taking the property of others, and appropriating it to his own use, the temporary possession of the deacon's money would not have exposed him to temptation. But his conscience had never been awakened to the iniquity of theft. So when it occurred to him that he had in his possession money enough to gratify his secret desire, and carry him to New York, there to enter upon a brilliant career, it did not occur to him that it would be morally wrong to do so. He did realize the danger of detection, however, and balanced in his mind whether the risk was worth incurring. He decided that it was. "The deacon don't know I've got the money," he reflected. "He won't find out for a good while; when he does I shall be in New York, where he won't think of going to find me." This was the way Sam reasoned, and from his point of view the scheme looked very plausible. Sam had a shrewd idea that his services were not sufficiently valuable to the deacon to induce him to make any extraordinary efforts for his capture. So, on the whole, he made up his mind to run away. "Shall I go now, or wait till mornin'?" thought Sam.