begged. "For what it is that you wait?"

It was just eight o'clock.

Billy was looking up at the single electric-light bulb that lit the
narrow street, and following the direction of his eyes, Claire saw the
light grow dim, saw the tiny wires grow red, and disappear. From over
all the city came shouts, and cries of consternation, oaths, and
laughter, and then darkness.

"I was waiting for _this_!" cried Billy.

With the delight of a mischievous child Claire laughed aloud.

"_You_--you did it!" she accused.

"I did!" said Billy. "And now--we must run like the devil!"

The _Prinz der Nederlanden_ was drawing slowly out of the harbor.
Shoulder to shoulder Claire and Billy leaned upon the rail. On the
wharfs of Port-au-Prince they saw lanterns tossing and candles
twinkling; saw the _Louisiana_, blazing like a Christmas-tree, steaming
majestically south; in each other's eyes saw that all was well.

From his pocket Billy drew a long envelope.

"I can now with certainty," said Billy, "state that this is
mine--_ours_."

He opened the envelope, and while Claire gazed upon many mille franc
notes Billy told how he had retrieved them.

"But what danger!" cried Claire. "In time Ham would have paid. Your
president at Washington would have _made_ him pay. Why take such risks?
You had but to wait!"

Billy smiled contentedly.

"Dear one!" he exclaimed, "the policy of watchful waiting is safer, but
the Big Stick acts quicker and gets results!"

THE BOY SCOUT

A rule of the Boy Scouts is every day to do some one a good turn. Not
because the copy-books tell you it deserves another, but in spite of
that pleasing possibility. If you are a true scout, until you have
performed your act of kindness your day is dark. You are as unhappy as
is the grown-up who has begun his day without shaving or reading the New
York _Sun_. But as soon as you have proved yourself you may, with a dear
conscience, look the world in the face and untie the knot in your
kerchief.

Jimmie Reeder untied the accusing knot in his scarf at just ten minutes
past eight on a hot August morning after he had given one dime to his
sister Sadie. With that she could either witness the first-run films at
the Palace, or by dividing her fortune patronize two of the nickel shows
on Lenox Avenue. The choice Jimmie left to her. He was setting out for
the annual encampment of the Boy Scouts at Hunter's Island, and in the
excitement of that adventure even the