remain so. His home had not been pleasant at the best. As a dependent
upon the bounty of such a woman it would be worse. He resolved to leave
home and strike out for himself, not from any such foolish idea of
independence as sometimes leads boys to desert a good home for an
uncertain skirmish with the world, but simply be cause he felt now that
he had no real home.

To begin with he would need money, and on opening his pocket-book he
ascertained that his available funds consisted of only a dollar and
thirty-seven cents. That wasn't quite enough to begin the world with.
But he had other resources. He owned a gun, which a friend of his would
be ready to take off his hands. He had a boat, also, which he could
probably sell.

On the village street he met Reuben Gordon, a young journeyman
carpenter, who was earning good wages, and had money to spare.

"How are you, Phil," said Reuben in a friendly way.

"You are just the one I want to meet," said Phil earnestly. "Didn't you
tell me once you would like to buy my gun?"

"Yes. Want to sell it?"

"No, I don't; but I want the money it will bring. So I'll sell it if
you'll buy."

"What d'ye want for it?" asked Reuben cautiously.

"Six dollars."