r say?"

"It will come hard on the governor, but the worst of it is" there Tom
stopped, and stood a minute in the middle of the room with his head
down, as if he did n't find it easy to tell even kind little Polly.
Then out came the truth all in a breath, just as he used to bolt out his
boyish misdemeanors, and then back up against the wall ready to take the
consequences.

"I owe an awful lot of money that the governor don't know about."

"Oh, Tom, how could you?"

"I 've been an extravagant rascal, I know it, and I 'm thundering sorry,
but that don't help a fellow, I 've got to tell the dear old buffer, and
there 's where it cuts."

At another time Polly would have laughed at the contrast between Tom's
face and his language, but there was a sincere remorse, which made even
the dreadful word "buffer" rather touching than otherwise.

"He will be very angry, I dare say; but he 'll help you, won't he? He
always does, Fan says."

"That 's the worst of it, you see. He 's paid up so often, that the last
time he said his patience could n't stand it, nor his pocket either, and
if I got into any more scrapes of that sort, I must get out as I could.
I meant to be as steady as Bunker Hill Monument; but here I am again,
worse than ever, for last quarter I did n't say anything to father, he
was so bothered by the loss of those ships just then, so things have
mounted up confoundedly."

"What have you done with all your money?"

"Hanged if I know."

"Can't you pay it anyway?"

"Don't see how, as I have n't a cent of my own, and no way of getting
it, unless I try gambling."

"Oh, mercy, no! Sell your horse," cried Polly, after a minute of deep
meditation.

"I have; but he did n't bring half I gave for him. I lamed him last
winter, and the beggar won't get over it."

"And that did n't pay up the debts?"

"Only about a half of 'em."

"Why, Tom, how much do you owe?"

"I have dodged figuring it up till yesterday; then things were so
desperate, I thought I might as well face the truth, so I overhauled my
accounts, and there 's the result."

Tom threw a blotted, crumpled paper into Polly's lap, and tramped up
and down again, faster than ever. Polly took one look at the total and
clasped her hands, for to her inexperienced eyes it looked appalling.

"Tidy little sum, is n't it?" asked Tom, who could n't bear the silence,
or the startled, grieved look in Polly's eyes.

"It 's awful! I don't wonder you dread telling