But more especially did he envy Tony Weston his good luck in getting into the club; for Tony's admission was abundant evidence that the social standing of the boys had not been taken into consideration. There was no rich and poor about it; it was good and evil entirely. And Tim had always cherished a strong feeling of dislike, and even hatred, towards the poor widow's son, undoubtedly because he was a good boy, and everybody liked him. He had not forgotten Tony's interference on the island, when he was about to thrash Frank Sedley; and among the Bunkers he expressed his intention to be fully revenged.
At recess Frank, Charles, and Tony went up to a neighbor's house close by to get some water. When they had drunk, and were passing through the wood-house to return, Charles observed an old wallet lying on a bench.
"That must be Farmer Whipple's," replied Tony.
"Probably the farmer laid it down when he was paying somebody some money," added Frank.
"I will carry it to him," said Charles. "He is out in the garden."
"Don't meddle with it," answered Tony. "We will see him, and tell him it is here."
"But somebody might steal it in the meantime."
"Nobody will; I wouldn't meddle with it."
The boys walked off towards the schoolhouse, but they did not find the farmer in the garden.
"He was here when we came up," said Tony. "I will find him;" and he walked towards the barn, while Charles and Frank continued on their way.
Tony looked all about the premises, but he did not find the farmer. Returning to the wood-house, he found that the wallet was gone.
"Hello, Tony," said Tim Bunker, at this moment entering the wood-house, and going to the well for a drink.
"Yes; he just went into the house," replied the chief of the Bunkers.
"Right through this way. He was just ahead of you when you came from the barn."
The farmer had taken his wallet then as he passed through, and he was satisfied it was all right.
"I say, Tony, what were you doing out to the barn? Hooking eggs, eh?"
"I'll bet you ain't," drawled Tim, placing his thumb against his nose, and wagging his four fingers back and forth.
Tony heard the school-bell ring, and waiting for no more, ran off with all his speed. Tim was so late that Mr. Hyde, the master, gave him a sharp reproof for loitering by the way.