After that he thought he could go to sleep but the heavy weight rested still on his heart. He was not so much afraid of those solemn eyes as he was sorry. An only half understood feeling of having hurt that one friend of his came over him. "What be I going to do?" he said aloud and pitifully. "I _am_ sorry--I'm sorry I did it, and I'll never do it again." Still the heavy weight did not lift. Presently he flounced out of bed, and lighted his candle in haste. "I'll burn the mean old rag up, I will, so," he said with energy. "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? I never did see such a fix in my life. I can't use it, and I can't burn it, and the land knows I don't want to keep it. Whatever be I going to do? I wish he had it back again; that's where it ought to be. What if I should--well, now, there's no use talking; but s'pose I ought to, what then?" And there stood the poor befogged boy, holding the doomed bill between his thumb and finger, and staring gloomily at the flickering candle. At last the look of indecision vanished, and he began rapid preparations for a walk. [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. THE STEPPING STONE. Thus it was that Mr. Stephens, sitting in his private room running over long rows of figures, was startled, somewhere near midnight, by a quick ring of the door-bell. His household were quiet for the night, so he went himself to answer the ring, and encountered Tode, who thrust a bit of paper toward him, and spoke rapidly. "Here, Mr. Stephens, is your ten dollars. I didn't steal it, but it blew to me, and I kept it till I found I couldn't, and then I brought it." "What is all this about?" asked bewildered Mr. Stephens. "Come in, my boy, and tell me what is the matter." And presently Tode was seated in one of the great arm-chairs in Mr. Stephens' private room. "Now, what is it, my lad, that has brought you to me at this hour of the night?" questioned that gentleman. "Why, there's your money," said Tode, spreading out the ten dollar bill on the table before them. "You dropped it, you see, in the bookstore, and I picked it up. It blew to me, I didn't steal it, leastways I didn't think I did; but I don't know but it's just about as bad. At any rate I've brought it back, and there 'tis." "Why!" said Mr. Stephens, "is it _possible_ that I dropped a bill?" And he drew forth his pocket-book for examination. "Yes, that's a fact. Really, I deserve to lose it for my carelessness. And so you decided to bring it back? Well, I'm glad of that; but how came you to do it?"