d a roll of bills.

"I don't want your money, Morr!" answered Merwell, in a rage. "I am
going to make this boy give me back my gold piece."

"Say, you," said a man who had listened to the talk for several minutes.
"When did you lose that five-dollar gold piece?"

"Yesterday morning," answered Link Merwell. "I bought a newspaper from
this boy and after a while I found out I had given him a five-dollar
piece in place of a cent."

"Did you buy any postage stamps about the same time?" went on the man.

"Why--er--yes, I did." Link Merwell gave a start. "Say, did----"

"You did," answered the man, with a sarcastic grin. "I'm the clerk at
that window and I'm just going to lunch," he explained to the crowd.
"You bought five two-cent stamps and threw down a nickel and what I
supposed were five pennies. When I looked at them I saw one was a
five-dollar gold piece. I tried to call you back, but you got out in
such a hurry I couldn't locate you. If you'll come back with me I'll
give you the gold piece in exchange for one cent."

"There you are, Merwell!" cried Dave. "Now you can see how you were
mistaken in this boy."

Link Merwell's face was a study. He felt his humiliation keenly, and it
is safe to say he would rather have lost his five dollars than have been
shown up in the wrong.

"All right, I'll go back and get my gold piece," he muttered.

"I think you owe the newsboy an apology," said Phil.

"Oh, you go to thunder!" snapped Merwell, and pushed out of the crowd as
fast as he could. Several followed him and saw him get his gold piece,
and they passed all sorts of uncomplimentary remarks on his actions.

The girls had become interested in the ragged newsboy, and after he had
picked up his newspapers, they took him to an out-of-the-way corner and
questioned him. He said his name was Charley Gamp and that he was alone
in the world.

"My mother died some years ago," he said. "I don't know where my father
is. He left us when I was a baby."

"And do you make your living selling newspapers?" asked Laura.

"Mostly, but sometimes I carry bundles and run on other errands,"
answered Charley Gamp.

"And where do you live?" questioned Jessie.

"Oh, I live with an old woman named Posey--that is, when I can pay for
my bed. When I haven't the price I go down to the docks and find a bed
among the boxes and things."

"You poor boy!" murmured Jessie, and something like tears came into her
eyes. She turned to Laura. "Can't