tel, while Dickie went clickety-clack
along the pavement to his friend the pawnbroker.

"Here we are again," said that tradesman; "come to pawn the rattle?"

Dickie laughed. Pawning the rattle seemed suddenly to have become a
very old and good joke between them.

"Look 'ere, mister," he said; "that chink wot you lent me to get to
Gravesend with." He paused, and added in his other voice, "It was very
good of you, sir."

"I'm not going to lend you any more, if that's what you're after," said
the Jew, who had already reproached himself for his confiding
generosity.

"It's not that I'm after," said Dickie, with dignity. "I wish to repay
you."

"Got the money?" said the Jew, laughing not unkindly.

"No," said Dickie; "but I've got this." He handed the little box across
the counter.

"Where'd you get it?"

"I made it."

The pawnbroker laughed again. "Well, well, I'll ask no questions and
you'll tell me no lies, eh?"

"I shall certainly tell you no lies," said Dickie, with the dignity of
the dream boy who was not a cripple and was heir to a great and gentle
name; "will you take it instead of the money?"

The pawnbroker turned the box over in his hands, while kindness and
honesty struggled fiercely within him against the habits of a business
life. Dickie eyed the china vases and concertinas and teaspoons tied
together in fan shape, and waited silently.

"It's worth more than what I lent you," the man said at last with an
effort; "and it isn't every one who would own that, mind you."

"I know it isn't," said Dickie; "will you please take it to pay my debt
to you, and if it is worth more, accept it as a grateful gift from one
who is still gratefully your debtor."

"You'd make your fortune on the halls," said the man, as Beale had said;
"the way you talk beats everything. All serene. I'll take the box in
full discharge of your debt. But you might as well tell me where you got
it."

"I made it," said Dickie, and put his lips together very tightly.

"You did--did you? Then I'll tell you what. I'll give you four bob for
every one of them you make and bring to me. You might do different coats
of arms--see?"

"I was only taught to do one," said Dickie.

Just then a customer came in--a woman with her Sunday dress and a pair
of sheets to pawn because her man was out of work and the children were
hungry.

"Run along, now," said the Jew, "I've nothing more for you to-day."
Dickie flushed and went.

Three days