low voice.

"Oh! There's no great harm in that, my boy. What did you sell?"

"My skates and my watch," said Newton, just audibly. "You see I didn't
somehow feel as if I were going to skate much this winter--and I don't
really need to know what time it is if I start right by the clock to go
to school. I say, don't tell mother. She gave me the watch, you know,
last Christmas. Of course, you gave me the skates, but you'll
understand better than she would."

Overholt was profoundly touched, for he knew what delight the good
skates meant in the cold weather, and the pride the boy had felt in the
silver watch that kept such excellent time. But he could not think of
much to say just then, for the sight of the poor little pile of dirty
money that was the sordid price of so much pleasure and satisfaction
half-choked him.

"You're a brave boy," he said in a low tone.

But Newton was indefinitely far from understanding that he had done
anything brave; he merely felt much better now, because he had confessed
and had the matter off his mind.

"Oh well, you see, something had to be done quick," he said, "and I
couldn't think of anything else. But I'll go and earn that ten cents of
Bangs every afternoon, you bet! And I guess I can pick up a quarter at
the depôt now and then; that is, if you don't mind. It isn't much, I
know, but it'll help a little."