o tone of apology or confession, "I
might have had an elephant."

"Yes," said Anderson, "you might have."

"And they did not know but what I might," said the boy, angrily.

Anderson nodded judicially. "That's so, I suppose; only elephants are
not very common as setter dogs for a boy to have around these parts."

"It was a setter dog," said the boy, with a burst of innocence and
admiration. "How did you know?"

"Oh, I guessed."

"You must be real smart," said the boy. "My father said he thought
you were, and somehow had got stranded in a grocery store. Did you?"

"Yes, I did," replied Anderson.

Anderson was now walking quite briskly towards home and dinner, and
the boy was trotting by his side, with seemingly no thought of
parting. They proceeded in silence for a few steps; then the boy
spoke again.

"I began with the setter dog," said he. "His name was Archie, and he
used to jump over the roof of a part of our house as high as"--he
looked about and pointed conclusively at the ell of a house across
the street--"as high as that," he said, with one small pink finger
indicating unwaveringly.

"That must have been quite a jump," remarked Anderson, and his voice
betrayed nothing.

"That setter was an awful jumper," said the little boy. "He died last
winter. My sisters cried, but I didn't." His voice trembled a little.

"He must have been a fine dog," said Anderson.

"Yes, sir, he could jump. I think that piece of our house he used to
jump over was higher than that," said the boy, reflectively, with the
loving tone of a panegyrist who would heap more and more honors and
flowers upon a dear departed.

"A big jump," said Anderson.

"Yes, sir, he was an awful jumper. Those boys they said I lied. First
they said he couldn't do it, then they said I didn't have any dog,
and then I--"

"And then you said you had the elephant?"

"Yes, sir. Say, you ain't going to tell 'em what I've told you?"

"You better believe I'm not. But I tell you one thing--next time, if
you'll take my advice, you had better stick to the setter dog and let
elephants alone."

"Maybe it would be better," said the boy. Then he added, with a
curious sort of naive slyness, "But I haven't said I didn't have any
elephant."

"That's so," said Anderson.

Suddenly, as the two walked along, the man felt a hard, hot little
hand slide into his. "I guess you must be an awful smart man," said
the boy.

"What is your name?" said Anderson, in lie