As Sam walked rapidly to the post office he tried to think of some way of raising the money he needed. If his credit had been better Henry Martin might have accommodated him; but Sam was conscious that he had not treated his roommate in such a way as to inspire confidence. Then it occurred to him that he might obtain the ring back by giving the pawnbroker what money he had, and leaving his vest on deposit with him. At any rate, it would do no harm to try.

There was no time to go round to the pawnbroker's now, for his employer was very particular about receiving his letters promptly, and so great a delay might lead to his dismissal. He waited, therefore, until dinner time and then went round.

The pawnbroker recognized him at once, and regretted to see him. He knew the value of the ring, and was afraid Sam wished to redeem it.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, pretending not to know him.

"I was here yesterday," said Sam. "Don't you remember me?"

"I have so many come in I can't remember them all."

"But I left a ring here."

"A ring?" repeated the pawnbroker, vacantly. "What kind of a ring?"

"A ring with a stone set in it."

"Oh? you left it here."

"Yes, and you gave me five dollars on it."

"Did I? Then I gave you too much."

Sam was glad to hear this. Evidently the man, so he thought, did not understand the value of the ring, and would be glad to let him have it again. It was for his interest to let him think so.

"I guess you're right," he said. "The ring wasn't worth much, but my grandfather left it to me, and so I like it."

"You said it was your grandmother yesterday," remarked the pawnbroker, shrewdly.

"Did I? Well, it's all the same," said Sam, getting over the little difficulty. "I should like to have it again."

"Have you got the receipt?" asked the pawnbroker, to gain time.

"Yes, I've got it here."

The man looked discomfited, but Sam's next words freed him from anxiety.

"I want to ask of you a favor," said Sam. "I haven't got money enough here, but I'll pay you what I've got and bring you the rest tomorrow."

"Oh, no, you won't," said the old man, smiling, and wagging his head. "Do you think I am a fool? That isn't the way I do business, my boy."

"But I swear to you I will bring you the money," said Sam, earnestly. "I'll give you a little extra besides, to pay you for waiting."

"You are very kind," said the pawnbroker, revealing his yellow teeth in a cunning smile; "but I can't do it."

Sam had one other resource.

"Then," he proposed, "I'll pay you all the money I have, and give you my vest besides to keep till to-morrow."

"How much money have you got?"

"Three dollars."

"And your vest is worth about twenty-five cents."

"Twenty-five cents!" repeated Sam, looking insulted. "Do you think I would wear a twenty-five cent vest?"

"It is all it is worth to me. I lent you five dollars, and you want to put me off with three dollars and a quarter."

"But I would come round to-morrow and give you the money."

"Shall you have the money to-morrow?" inquired the dealer.

"Yes," answered Sam.

"Where will you get it?"

"I ain't obliged to tell that. It don't make no difference to you."

"Well, if you get the money to-morrow you can come round to-morrow," said the old man, with the air of one who had announced his ultimatum.

"But I want it to-day, particular," persisted Sam.

"Why do you want it to-day, particular?" asked the pawnbroker, looking curious.

"I'm going to a party to-night," said Sam, whose imagination was always to be relied upon. "I want to wear the ring there."

"Did you expect to go to the party without a vest?" queried the old man.

"Oh, I've got another at home," said Sam, composedly.

"You'll have to do without the ring till you bring me the money," said the pawnbroker, finally.

Sam saw from his manner that he was in earnest, and as perplexed as ever he left the shop.

"What am I going to do now?" he thought. "It's a shame to give up the reward on account of that mean old man. Why can't he trust me, I'd like to know? Does he think I would cheat him?"

Then a new fear disturbed Sam.

The pawnbroker might see the reward, and himself go to the advertiser and claim it.

"I wonder whether he takes the Herald?" thought our hero.

Something must be done, and at once. It was quite impossible to let such a golden chance slip by. So, finally, he determined to see Henry Martin, and if absolutely necessary tell him the whole story, and get him to accompany him to the pawnbroker's shop.

On his way back he happened to overtake Henry in the street, and broached the subject to him. Henry listened to him attentively.

"So that is where you got your supply of money from, Sam?" he said.

"Yes."

"I thought you must have raised some somewhere, or you would have been borrowing of me."

"I want to borrow three dollars of you now, or three fifty, to make sure I have enough."

"You had no right to pawn that ring, Sam. You ought to have remembered that it was not yours."

"I couldn't help it. I was out of money. Besides, I didn't know whose it was."

"It was your duty to find out, or try to find out."

"Could I go round the city asking everybody if the ring belonged to them?"

"No, but you could have advertised it in some paper.".

"How could I when I was dead broke? You know I couldn't."

"Well, what do you propose to do now?"

"I want you to lend me money enough to get back the ring. Then I'll go round to Wall Street and return it and get the twenty-five dollars reward, and pay you back every cent I owe you."

Henry reflected.

"I don't know but that's the best way," he said; "but I must go with you to see that it's all right."

"Of course you can. I want you to," said Sam, relieved.

"We can't go now, for there isn't time. Come into my place as soon as you get away, and we'll go round together."

"All right, Henry. You're a trump, and no mistake. I thought you'd help me out."

Sam's cheerfulness returned, and he went to work with more alacrity. All the afternoon he was forming plans for the disposal of the reward when it came into his hands.

About a quarter after five the two boys entered the pawnbroker's office.

The latter was not particularly pleased to see Sam, and his countenance showed it.

"I guess I'll take that ring, mister," said Sam, in an independent tone.

"What ring?"

"Oh, you know well enough."

"Have you brought the money?"

"Yes; I've got it here."

"It will be five dollars and a half."

"That is too much, but I'll give it to you; so just hand it over."

"Wait a minute, my friend," said the pawnbroker. "Where did you get the ring?"

"I've told you already."

"You said your grandmother left it to you; but I don't believe it."

"I can't help what you believe. Just hand it over."

"I have a strong suspicion, my young friend, that it is stolen."

"It's a lie!" said Sam, angrily.

"I'm not sure about that. I think I'll call a policeman."

Here Henry Martin interfered.

"Did you think it was stolen when you advanced money on it?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," said the pawnbroker. "Your friend's story was too thin."

"Then," said Henry, quietly, "you've got yourself into trouble. You can be arrested for receiving stolen goods."

The pawnbroker turned pale. He knew very well that he was in a dilemma.

"My friend didn't tell you the truth," continued Henry. "He found the ring, and now he has found the owner. He wants to return it, and that is why he is here. Unless you give it up, I will myself call a policeman."

Henry's quiet, assured manner produced its effect. With great reluctance the pawnbroker produced the ring, the charges were paid, and the two boys retired triumphant.