Jones did know, and, though she had not much of a conscience, she
felt the thrust and it made her uncomfortable and therefore angry. But
it also gave her an idea.

"Wait a minute," she said and left Robert standing in the doorway.

When she returned, which was in a short time, her thin lips were
wreathed with satisfaction.

"You can tell your aunt there won't be any money coming to her," she
said.

"Why not?" demanded Robert in great surprise.

"Mr. Jones tells me that your uncle is indebted to him, and he will
credit him with twenty-five cents on account."

"What does my uncle owe him for?" demanded the boy with flashing eyes.

"For drink, I suppose," said Mrs. Jones rather reluctantly.

"For drink!" repeated our hero. "Are you not satisfied with taking all
my uncle's earnings, but you must get my aunt to work her fingers to the
bone and then keep back her money in payment for your rum?"

"Upon my word, Robert Coverdale," said Mrs. Jones sharply, "you are very
impudent! How dare you speak to me in that way?"

"How dare you treat my aunt so meanly?" retorted Robert with righteous
indignation.

"I won't stand your impudence--so there! Your aunt needn't expect any
more sewing to do," said the angry landlady.

"She wouldn't take any more of your work if that is the way you mean to
pay her."

"I won't stand here talking with you. I'll get Mr. Jones to give you a
horsewhipping--see if I don't!"

"He'd better not try it," said Robert with flashing eyes.

The door was slammed in his face, and, angry and disappointed, he walked
slowly out of the tavern yard.

CHAPTER III

THE WIND BROUGHT GOOD LUCK

John Trafton was sitting out on the porch of the tavern when his nephew
came out of the side gate.

"There's your nephew, Trafton," said old Ben Brandon, who, like John
Trafton, frequented the barroom too much for his good. "Hasn't come here
for his dram, has he?" added the old man, chuckling.

John Trafton's curiosity was excited, for he had no idea of any errand
that could bring Robert to the tavern. A suspicion crossed his mind, the
very thought of which kindled his indignation. His wife might have sent
to request Mr. Jones not to sell him any more liquor. He did not think
she would dare to do it, but she might. At any rate he determined to
find out.

He hastily left the porch and followed Robert. Presently the boy heard
his uncle call him and he turned round.

"What's wanted, uncle?" he inquire