He was beginning to wonder just what was to become of himself.
His father had said that out in the world there was a beautiful work for him to do; but what was it?
How was he to find it?
Or how was he to do it if he did find it?
And another thing; where was he to live?
Could he stay where he was?
It was not home, to be sure; but there was the little room over the kitchen where he might sleep, and there was the kind woman who smiled at him sometimes with the sad, far-away look in her eyes that somehow hurt.

He would not like, now, to leave her--with daddy gone.
There were the gold-pieces, too; and concerning these David was equally puzzled.

What should he do with them?
He did not need them--the kind woman was giving him plenty of food, so that he did not have to go to the store and buy; and there was nothing else, apparently, that he could use them for.

They were heavy, and disagreeable to carry; yet he did not like to throw them away, nor to let anybody know that he had them: he had been called a thief just for one little piece, and what would they say if they knew he had all those others?
David remembered now, suddenly, that his father had said to hide them--to hide them until he needed them.

David was relieved at once.
Why had he not thought of it before?
He knew just the place, too,--the little cupboard behind the chimney there in this very room! And with a satisfied sigh, David got to his feet, gathered all the little yellow disks from his pockets, and tucked them well out of sight behind the piles of books on the cupboard shelves.