Loammi had a high idea of his personal qualities and social standing. But he had one grievance.

He received an allowance from his father, but it was much less than he thought he needed. Ezra Little was not a liberal man. He gave Loammi a dollar every Saturday night, and obstinately refused to give him more.

"It is very hard to get along on a dollar, pa," complained Loammi.

"When I was your age I had no allowance at all, my son."

"You were a poor boy. You were not expected to keep up appearances."

"You have no clothes to buy. I provide for you in that respect, and I think you are as well dressed as most of the boys you associate with."

"I don't complain of my clothes, but a boy wants to keep up his end with his school friends. Yesterday afternoon, Henry Bates proposed to me to go in and get an ice cream, but I couldn't, for I had no money."

"Have you spent all your weekly allowance?"

"Yes, every cent."

"Yet it is only Wednesday."

"And I must scrimp till Saturday night."

"Then you should manage better. If you limited yourself to ten cents a day for the first five days, you would be able to spend twenty-five cents on Friday and Saturday."

"That's easier said than done, pa."

"I am afraid you are getting extravagant, Loammi."

"Even Scott goes around with more money in his pocket than I do."

"How much money has he got?"

"About five dollars."

"He will have to spend it for clothes. He won't be able to buy ice cream with it."

"Still, it makes a fellow feel good to have as much money as that in his pocket."

"Then I advise you to save up money for a few weeks till you have as much."

"Pa," suggested Loammi, insinuatingly, "couldn't you let me have a five-dollar bill to carry round with me, so that I could show it to my friends? They would think more of me."

"How long do you think it would remain unbroken?" asked his father, shrewdly.

"Oh, ever so long."

"I don't wish to try the experiment. Your friends will respect you without that. They know that you are the son of a man who is well off."

"No, they don't think so, when they see that I am always short of money and hard up."

"Then let them think what they please. If they thought you had money they would want to borrow it, or urge you to spend it on them."

So Loammi failed in his effort to obtain a larger allowance.

One day—it was Friday—he particularly wanted to use some money and was without a penny. Under these circumstances it occurred to him that his despised cousin was well supplied with cash, and might be induced to accommodate him with a loan.

Scott was rather surprised when, as he was going out after supper, Loammi joined him.

"Are you going out for a walk?" he asked, in an unusually gracious tone.

"Yes, Loammi."

"I will join you if you don't mind."

"Certainly. I shall be glad to have your company."

"Have you called on Mr. Lawton lately?"

"No; he is out of town just now. I think he has gone to Philadelphia."

"Has he got a place?"

"He is doing something, but I don't know what it is. He doesn't seem to say much about his affairs."

"I hope he won't spend all his money."

"So do I. He seems to be generous, even beyond his means."

"I wish he'd be generous to me," thought Loammi.

They walked down Broadway, Loammi chatting pleasantly.

"Oh, by the way," he said, suddenly, "I find I have left my purse at home. Could you lend me a dollar?"

Then it flashed upon Scott what was the meaning of his cousin's agreeable manner. He was of an obliging disposition, but he knew Loammi well enough to be certain that he would never see his money back.

"I am sorry, Loammi," he said, "but I am afraid I can't lend you any money."

"Haven't you got any?"

"Yes, but I have to buy my own clothes, as you know, and I need some underclothing."

"That won't cost much."

"True, but there are other things I need, also."

"I don't ask you to give me the money. To-morrow evening I shall get my allowance from pa, and then I can pay you back."

"You must excuse me, Loammi, but I have so little money that I have to be very careful of that little. If I had some one to buy my clothes for me, as you have, it would be different."

"Oh, well," said Loammi, offended, "do as you like. You seem to forget that but for pa you would be in the poorhouse."

"I don't think I should."

"Of course you would. Doesn't he give you your living?"

"No. I earn it."

"All the same. He gave you a place in his store."

"I think I could have got work somewhere else. However, I don't deny that your father gave me employment."

"And you repay him by refusing a slight favor to his son."

"I wish I were differently situated, Loammi, but——"

"Oh, you needn't go on. You have refused me a small favor. Good-evening!" and Loammi left his cousin, and went off in a huff.

"Now, I suppose Loammi will dislike me more than ever," thought Scott. "Well, I must put up with it. I am not rich enough to lend him money which he won't pay back."

Meanwhile, Loammi went home in a very unsatisfactory frame of mind. He was disgusted with himself now because he had humiliated himself so far as to ask his cousin for a loan.

"I'll get even with him if I get a chance," he reflected, angrily.

He was destined to another mortification.

Before he reached home he met a schoolmate named Paul Granger. He wished he could have avoided him for a reason that will immediately appear, but Paul met him as he turned in from the corner of West Forty-fourth Street.

"I am glad to meet you, Loammi," said Paul. "You are owing me a dollar, you know. I should like it back, as I want to go to a picnic to-morrow."

"All right," said Loammi, and he put his hand in his pocket.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, in apparent astonishment. "My purse is empty. I shall have to make you wait a day or two."

"But I have been waiting already for three weeks," protested Paul.

"I am sorry, but I really can't do anything for you to-night. About the first of next week."

"Why don't you ask your father for some money? He is a rich man, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he would be angry if he knew that I had borrowed money. He is very strict about such matters."

"Then you ought not to have borrowed money of me," said Paul.

"Oh, I'll make it all right in a day or two," said Loammi. "Good-evening, I am in a little of a hurry."

Paul Granger walked away, pretty well assured that he would never get back his dollar.

"I suppose that fellow will be annoying me every day," said Loammi to himself. "Heigh-ho! it's awful inconvenient to be so poor. Pa could make it all right if he'd open his heart and give me five or ten dollars."

Loammi entered the house fully convinced that he was very ill used, and that his father was a very selfish man.

He walked upstairs slowly, and as he passed through the upper hall he saw the door of his mother's chamber open. He went in, thinking that he might be able to borrow from her, when as his eyes glanced around the room he saw something that made his heart beat quicker.

On the bureau lay a small pocketbook, which he recognized as his mother's.

Under present circumstances the sight of a pocketbook affected him powerfully.

Without any definite idea of what he would do, he walked softly to the bureau, and taking the pocketbook in his hand, opened it. It contained two bills, a five-dollar note and a one.

"This would just get me out of my trouble," he thought. "I wish this money was mine."

It was a strong temptation. With the one dollar he could pay Paul Granger, and the five would last him some time, supplementing what he called his miserable allowance.

He put the pocketbook in his pocket, and slipping downstairs stealthily, went out again into the street.