pe you will have the
honesty to pay me what you owe me as soon as possible."

"Yes, I will, but I am afraid that won't be soon."

"You ought to make an effort to pay me."

"It isn't as if I really owed it to you. It is money I have lost at
cards."

"If you are a boy of honor," said Reginald impressively, "you will feel
that such debts ought to be paid above all others."

"Why should they?" asked Percy, and there will be many others who will
be disposed to echo the question. "Why should gambling debts take
precedence of honest obligations?" It is not necessary to repeat
Reginald's explanation, as it was shallow and sophistical.

Two hours later Sam Doyle, a young Irish boy, espied, under a bush by
the roadside, what seemed to be a letter. He picked it up, and, though
his education was by no means extensive, he made out the name of Mr.
Jones.

"Shure Mr. Jones must have dropped it out of his pocket," he said. "I'll
carry it to him."

He entered the store, and attracted the attention of the grocer, who was
behind the counter, and in a bad humor, smarting still from his loss of
twenty dollars.

"Clear out, you Sam Doyle!" he said, "unless you want to buy something.
I don't want any boys loafing round my store."

"Is this your envelope, Mr. Jones?" asked Sam, producing the envelope.

"Give it to me."

Mr. Jones read his name on the envelope in some wonder and tore it open.
What was his amazement and delight when he saw the lost bill!

"Where did you get this, Sam?" he asked.

"I found it under a bush by the side of the road, near the blacksmith's
shop."

"When?"

"Shure it wasn't more'n five minutes."

"Do you know what was in the envelope?"

"No."

"You are sure no one gave you the letter to hand to me?" said the
grocer, with a searching glance.

"Shure, I found it."

"Well, I'm glad to get it. You are a good boy to bring it to me. Here's
ten cents."

Sam took the money, as much surprised as pleased, for the grocer was
considered, and justly, a very mean man.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones," he said.

"You are sure that Bert Barton didn't give you the letter?"

"Yes, sir. I haven't seen Bert since mornin'."

"Did you see any other boy near?"

"Yes, sir, I saw Percy Marlowe."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes, sir; he asked me what I'd got in my hand."

"What did you say?"

"I showed him the letter."

"Did he say anything to you then?"

"He told me it was for you, and he said I'd better tak