ovide a way out of her difficulty a big dog arose from a
lawn, and came toward the gate wagging his tail. "If those children ate
the stuff, it can't possibly kill him!" thought Elnora, so she offered
the bologna. The dog accepted it graciously, and being a beast of
pedigree he trotted around to a side porch and laid the bologna before
his mistress. The woman snatched it, screaming: "Come, quick! Some one
is trying to poison Pedro!" Her daughter came running from the house.
"Go see who is on the street. Hurry!" cried the excited mother.

Ellen Brownlee ran and looked. Elnora was half a block away, and no
one nearer. Ellen called loudly, and Elnora stopped. Ellen came running
toward her.

"Did you see any one give our dog something?" she cried as she
approached.

Elnora saw no escape.

"I gave it a piece of bologna myself," she said. "It was fit to eat. It
wouldn't hurt the dog."

Ellen stood and looked at her. "Of course, I didn't know it was your
dog," explained Elnora. "I had something I wanted to throw to some dog,
and that one looked big enough to manage it."

Ellen had arrived at her conclusions. "Pass over that lunch box," she
demanded.

"I will not!" said Elnora.

"Then I will have you arrested for trying to poison our dog," laughed
the girl as she took the box.

"One chunk of stale bread, one half mile of antique bologna contributed
for dog feed; the remains of cake, salad and preserves in an otherwise
empty lunch box. One ham sandwich yesterday. I think it's lovely you
have the box. Who ate your lunch to-day?"

"Same," confessed Elnora, "but there were three of them this time."

"Wait, until I run back and tell mother about the dog, and get my
books."

Elnora waited. That morning she walked down the hall and into the
auditorium beside one of the very nicest girls in Onabasha, and it was
the fourth day. But the surprise came at noon when Ellen insisted upon
Elnora lunching at the Brownlee home, and convulsed her parents and
family, and overwhelmed Elnora with a greatly magnified, but moderately
accurate history of her lunch box.

"Gee! but it's a box, daddy!" cried the laughing girl. "It's carved
leather and fastens with a strap that has her name on it. Inside are
trays for things all complete, and it bears evidence of having enclosed
delicious food, but Elnora never gets any. She's carried it two days
now, and both times it has been empty before she reached school. Isn't
that killing?"

"It i