ing mine--on her--and you can't stop me either."

Money, money, money! All he was hearing these days was about spending,
not saving it, and Sid's words, as had his lady's, riled him not a
little.

"I'm going to take her out, too," he shot back. "Won't be a cheap thing
like sodas, either. We're going to the theater, we are, and then she'll
promise not to speak to you any more. If she won't, I'll punch your face
in, first time I catch you."

"Theater!" said Sid, so impressed that the concluding threat passed
unheeded.

"Going to buy the tickets, this afternoon," John boasted. "Main floor
seats at the 'Home'--_seventy-five cents each!_ Don't you wish you were
going?"

Sid's skates slipped from his shoulder into the snow. He picked them up
and looked at John uncertainly.

"That'll cost a lot of money, won't it?" he asked.

"Most two dollars," magnificently.

"Let's take her together, then. I'll pay half the carfare and the
seats."

John thought a moment. The plan possessed certain advantages. He would
be able to observe how Louise acted with Sid, for one; and if he didn't
consent, that persistent rival would take her later, anyway, which would
be a thousand times worse. Besides, the prospect of two hard-earned
dollars being frittered away for an evening's entertainment had been far
from pleasing.

"The tickets are for a week from Saturday," he said slowly. "Want me to
get you one?"

Sid nodded and dug into his pocket for a handful of Christmas change. He
passed over a dollar and twelve cents to John, and left for the lagoon.

Half a dozen times as the street car bounced westward over the uneven
track, John decided to tell Sid that, after all, the entertainment was
for but two. He would probably spoil all the fun, anyway, and then the
evening would be a total failure. He was still undecided when he stepped
up to the tawdry box office with its photographs of local theatrical
stars.

"How many?" asked the man at the little window.

John drew out a coin from his pocket. Heads, Sid joined them; tails, he
should be Louise's sole escort. Heads it was. The fates had willed it;
let the outcome be for good or ill.

When he told of the arrangement at the family supper table, that
evening, his parents choked.

"I suppose," said Mr. Fletcher, his voice still shaking with laughter,
"that you'll sit, one on each side of the lady, and glare because she
took the last piece of candy from the other fellow's box."

Cand