Through by Daylight by Oliver Optic

I was both amazed and confounded when it was ascertained that the pocket-book did not contain the money. From the depth of despair my father and myself had gone up to the pinnacle of hope, when the treasure was supposed to be found; and now we fell back into a deeper gulf than that into which we had first fallen. Those with whom money is plenty cannot understand the greatness of my father's loss. For years he had toiled and saved in order to clear the house in which we lived. He had struggled with, and conquered, the appetite for intoxicating drinks, in order to accomplish his great purpose.

He had been successful. He had kept away from the drunkard's bowl, he had lived prudently, he had carefully husbanded all his resources, and, at the time my story begins, he felt that the pretty little place where we lived actually belonged to him. It was always to be the home of his family, and it was all the more loved and prized because it had been won by constant toil and careful saving. This was the feeling of my father, as it was my own, when we started for Ucayga to draw the money from the bank. We felt like the king and the prince who had won a great victory, and were to march in triumph into the conquered possession.