od or not. I guess you
won't miss much of any of the games."

"Go on--I see the games free," said William, "and----" he paused.

"And you get ten cents commission on every dollar's worth of stuff you
sell."

"Any of the boys ever say they got too much?" inquired William, with a
pretence of eager interest.

Walter smiled. "Not that I remember," he answered, "but they don't do
so bad."

"All right," said William, "I'll be on hand for Monday's game. But I
can't afford to be loafin' until then. Anything doin' before that?"

"This place ain't had a cleaning up since I don't know when," replied
Walter, "and there's a lot of old boxes in the back yard that have to
be broken up for firewood sooner or later, and stored in the cellar.
Want to tackle the job? There's a few dollars in it anyway."

"Sure," said William, and set to work forthwith. He toiled steadily in
the Emporium, but not with his usual cheerfulness, for he was really
sorry to be away from Whimple's office. The more he thought of the
causes leading up to his dismissal, the more he wished that Lucien had
been responsible. "He got the lickin' anyway," said William to himself
with a smile, "but darn a fellow like that: I wonder if he ever made a
fool of himself in his life."

It was at this moment that William noticed a large megaphone, one of
Walter's cherished possessions, in the back part of the Emporium.
"Say, Walter," he cried excitedly, "let me have a crack at the
megaphone."

"Go ahead," said Walter good-naturedly, "but don't blame me if you get
pinched for disturbing the peace."

William carried the megaphone upstairs, rested one end on the sill of
the open window, and took a critical survey of the passers-by on the
street.

"Wow!" he cried aloud, and as though addressing some one in the room;
"look who's acomin'." He hastily adjusted the megaphone, waited until
he thought the person he had spoken of was within striking range, and
then there arose a weird shriek that attracted the attention of
everybody within seven blocks of the Emporium. It filled the heart of
one boy momentarily with fear, and brought him to a sudden standstill
without at once becoming acquainted with the source of the noise. He
looked around bewildered, and, as he looked, voices seemed to bellow in
both his ears, "Good evening, Lucien. How many stamps did you lick
to-day?"

Several people halted, irresolute, eventually focussing their gaze on
Lucien, who, havin