."

You have not forgotten Jim, the gawky, overgrown boy who had a verbal
contract with Mrs. Friestone which bound him to go to the store each
weekday morning and set out on the front porch the score or more samples
of the goods that were on sale within. The same agreement required him to
come around at dusk each evening and carry them inside, his weekly wage
for such duty being twenty-five cents. When, therefore, Mike Murphy
handed him a silver quarter and assumed the job for that single night,
Jim received a whole week's pay for turning it over to the Irish lad. It
is not so strange that the youngster was confused at first over his bit
of luck, which he did not fully understand until he reached home and had
eaten his supper.

Now by one of those curious coincidences which occur oftener in this life
than most people think, that day was the anniversary of Jim's birth.
Being a good boy, as such things go, his father presented him with a fine
pocketknife, than which nothing could have pleased his son better. It was
really an excellent article, having four blades, one of which was a file,
two of small size, and one quite large, the three being almost as
keen-edged as a razor. Straightway the happy lad selected his right hand
trousers pocket as the home of the knife when not in use. The
miscellaneous articles, such as a jewsharp, a piece of twine, a key,
three coppers, a piece of resin, several marbles, two ten-penny nails, a
stub of a lead pencil and a few other things were shifted to the left
side repository, where also he deposited the shining silver coin, after
showing it to his parents and telling them how he fell heir to it.

The chat of the family shut out reference to the knife for most of the
evening. Both parents were inclined to be gossipy, and they indulged in
many guesses as to the identity of the donor and what caused him to be so
liberal. The mother's first thought was that the red-haired,
freckle-faced youth was a newcomer to Beartown, and had secured Jim's
job, but that fear was removed by Jim's declaration that the stranger
distinctly said he intended to do the work only for that evening.

It was not very late when Jim went to his bedroom on the second floor to
retire for the night. When ready to disrobe, he took out the wealth of
treasures in his left pocket, including the bright quarter, and shoved
his hand into the other for the prize that outweighed them all. Then he
emitted a gasp of dismay: the po