The Hole in the Wall by Arthur Morrison

I went to bed early that night -- as soon as Mrs. Grimes was gone, in fact. My grandfather had resolved that such a late upsitting as last night's must be no more than an indulgence once in a way. He came up with me, bringing the cash-box to put away in the little wall-cupboard against his bed-head where it always lay, at night, with a pistol by its side. Grandfather Nat peeped to see the pocket-book safe once more, and chuckled as he locked it away. This done, he sat by my side, and talked till I began to fall asleep.

The talk was of the pocket-book, and what should be done with the money.