t One-Eye, and put a finger to her lips. "You can give it to
some little girl, Johnnie," she said; "--some real poor little girl."'

"All right." (He had decided on the instant who should have Edwarda!)
"But I'd go 'long fast, if I was you," he added, with a fearsome look
toward the bedroom.

Cis came to him. "Mrs. Kukor'll be right upstairs," she reminded (the
little Jewish lady was trotting out and away, not trusting herself to
look on at their farewells).

"And I'll drop in often," interposed Father Pat; "--please God!"

One-Eye divined what was going forward. He got up uneasily. "Dang it, if
I ain't sorry I'm goin' West so soon again!" he fretted. "But I'll tote
y' back with me some day, sonny--see if I don't! Also, I'll peek in
oncet 'r twicet afore I go--that is, if my lamp gits better."

"All right," said Johnnie again. He had but one idea now: to get every
one safely away. So he was not sad.

"You--you can have my room now," Cis went on, swallowing, and trying to
smile.

"Thank y'."

They shook hands, then, both a little awkwardly. Next, she bent to kiss
him. Boylike, he was not eager for that, with Father Pat and Mr. Perkins
looking on. So he backed away deprecatingly, and she succeeded only in
touching her lips to a tuft of his bright hair. But at once, forgetting
manly pride, he wound his arms about her, and laid his hurt cheek
against her shoulder; and she patted his sore back gently, and dropped a
tear or two among the tangles brushing her face.

When he drew away from her, he saw that neither Father Pat nor Mr.
Perkins were watching them. The former had a hand across his eyes (was
he praying, or just being polite?); while the scoutmaster, hands behind
him, and chin in air, was staring out of the window.

"I'm ready, Algy,"--Cis tried to say it as casually as if she were going
only to the corner. She joined Father Pat and One-Eye at the door.

Now it was Mr. Perkins's turn. He came over and held out a hand. "Well,
John Blake," he said (he had never used "John" before), "you'll be in
our thoughts every hour of the day--you, and Grandpa. You know you're
not losing a sister; you're gaining a brother."

They shook hands then, as men should. But a moment later, by an impulse
that was mutual, each put his arms about the other in a quick embrace.

"My little brother!"

"My--my big brother!"

"Hate to leave you, scout boy."

"Aw, that's all right. Y' know me, Mister Perkins. I don't mind this old