h you," said his sister. "Bass, will you come
along?"

"No," said the young man, indifferently, "I won't." He was
adjusting his necktie and felt irritated.

"There ain't any," said George, "unless we get it off the cars.
There wasn't any cars where I was."

"There are, too," exclaimed Bass.

"There ain't," said George.

"Oh, don't quarrel," said Jennie. "Get the baskets and let's go
right now before it gets too late."

The other children, who had a fondness for their big sister, got
out the implements of supply--Veronica a basket, Martha and
William buckets, and George, a big clothes-basket, which he and Jennie
were to fill and carry between them. Bass, moved by his sister's
willingness and the little regard he still maintained for her, now
made a suggestion.

"I'll tell you what you do, Jen," he said. "You go over there with
the kids to Eighth Street and wait around those cars. I'll be along in
a minute. When I come by don't any of you pretend to know me. Just you
say, 'Mister, won't you please throw us some coal down?' and then I'll
get up on the cars and pitch off enough to fill the baskets. D'ye
understand?"

"All right," said Jennie, very much pleased.

Out into the snowy night they went, and made their way to the
railroad tracks. At the intersection of the street and the broad
railroad yard were many heavily laden cars of bituminous coal newly
backed in. All of the children gathered within the shadow of one.
While they were standing there, waiting the arrival of their brother,
the Washington Special arrived, a long, fine train with several of the
new style drawing-room cars, the big plate-glass windows shining and
the passengers looking out from the depths of their comfortable
chairs. The children instinctively drew back as it thundered past.

"Oh, wasn't it long?" said George.

"Wouldn't I like to be a brakeman, though," sighed William.

Jennie, alone, kept silent, but to her particularly the suggestion
of travel and comfort had appealed. How beautiful life must be for the
rich!

Sebastian now appeared in the distance, a mannish spring in his
stride, and with every evidence that he took himself seriously. He was
of that peculiar stubbornness and determination that had the children
failed to carry out his plan of procedure he would have gone
deliberately by and refused to help them at all.

Martha, however, took the situation as it needed to be taken, and
piped out childishly, "Mister, won't yo