ook at that!"

Sam displayed his bundle of checks.

"I don't see nothin' particular except some bits of paper."

"You don't know anything about business, Tim. Them's checks."

"Are they?"

"They're good for a lot of money. Here's a check for twelve hundred
dollars, and there's others besides."

"That piece of paper worth twelve hundred dollars!" said Tim,
incredulously.

"Yes."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Take it to the bank."

"What bank?"

"Fourth National Bank."

Tim looked at Sam with respect. He must certainly occupy a responsible
business position if he was trusted with such a large amount of
money.

Sam, in putting back his checks, was careless enough to drop the
twelve-hundred-dollar check. He hurried off, unconscious of his loss,
and Tim quietly secured it. He ought to have restored it to Sam, as he
easily might have done; but an idea struck him. He would instead carry
it round to Mr. Dalton, and in all probability secure a reward for his
honesty. This was sharp practice, and hardly consistent with
friendship for Sam; but Tim was a boy not particularly scrupulous, who
cared more for number one than for any friend. He went into a store
near by, ascertained the number of Mr. Dalton's place of business, and
hurried down there.

"Is the boss in?" he asked of William Budd, whom he first
encountered.

"Yes."

"I'd like to see him."

"What for?"

"Important business," answered Tim.

Budd looked at him rather incredulously.

"If you want to apply for a place, it's no use. We've got a boy
already."

"That ain't my business. I've picked up something in the street that
belongs to Mr. Dalton, I'm thinkin'."

"What is it?"

"A check."

"Sam must have dropped it," thought William, instantly. "Let me see
it," he said, aloud.

"I'll show it to the boss," said Tim, obstinately.

"Come on, then."

"Here is a boy, Mr. Dalton, who thinks he has found something
belonging to you," said the young man.

Mr. Dalton looked up.

"What is it, my boy?" he said.

"It's a check," said Tim, and, taking off his ragged hat, he handed
the paper to Mr. Dalton.

"It's Nesbitt's check for twelve hundred dollars!" exclaimed the
merchant. "Where did you find it?"

"In Nassau Street."

"How could it be there, Mr. Budd?" asked Mr. Dalton.

"I sent Sam to the bank not long since. He must have dropped it. It is
not the first time he has been careless."

"I am afraid we shall have to dischar