But Chick knew that it lied! Had it not eaten up his nickels week
after week? Had he not worked for it, fought for it, and bled for it,
confidently believing that the prize would be his? And there it stood
gorged with his precious nickels, mysterious and fascinating still,
but treacherous through and through!
In a blaze of wrath Chick dealt it a sounding blow with the crowbar,
then crouched in terror for what might happen. There was no sound but
the dash of rain against the windows, and the heavy rumble of thunder
overhead. Once more Chick grasped his heavy weapon and began the
attack in earnest. Blow followed blow, as fast as his small arms could
swing the crowbar. Suddenly a spring seemed to snap, and out poured a
stream of money that rolled about his feet, and off into the farthest
corners of the room.
Chick crouched on the floor, overcome by his exertions and the success
of his venture. Wealth was within his reach, more wealth than he had
ever dreamed of! Not unintelligible gold and silver, but dear,
familiar nickels, whose purchasing power he knew. But no thought of
appropriation crossed his mind as he knelt there, fingering the
glittering pile.
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