wagged his stump of a tail and allowed Jimmy to come close.

"Talk about luck!" exulted Jimmy White. Dr. Clarke, who regarded the dog almost as a member of the family, would surely be willing to reward his finder.

He stopped to debate the matter. Perhaps the best way was to take Prince to his own home and shut him up in the barn. If he did that, he could go to Dr. Clarke and say he believed he knew where to find the lost dog.

"No-o." Jimmy shook his head. "No, that wouldn't be quite right, I guess. I guess. Anyhow, Dr. Clarke is square. I'll take the dog to him now and he'll give me a dollar. Why shouldn't he? I deserve it. And it's worth that much to get Prince back."

So he whistled to Prince, jerking a little on the rope, and boy and dog began their trip. Dr. Clarke lived far out on Elm Street. Prince knew the way; he had been running toward home when he came upon Jimmy.

Four blocks down Elm Street, after the turn from Main, the pair came to a little bridge over a creek. Down below, on the creek bank, Sam Wolters was fishing for suckers. He was doing it with an ordinary pole and line. Jimmy guessed the outfit was homemade, because Sam's folks were very poor. The boy on the bridge sniffed contemptuously.

no way to fish.

That was

He was about to turn away, when the cork began to jiggle. Now Jimmy was far too enthusiastic a fisherman to want to miss what followed; he stiffened expectantly. The cork teetered. It sank for an instant; then popped a full inch above the water. This was too much for Prince. With another yelp, he dashed forward and Jimmy felt himself suddenly roped. He reached out clawing hands for a hold, but there was no railing to grasp. In another moment he was plunging from the bridge to the water below.

The middle of the creek was deep. Jimmy hit the surface with a splash, gasped, swallowed a great mouthful of water, and sank like a rock. At best he was an indifferent swimmer, and he found himself all at once horribly frightened.

He fought a frantic way to the air. Once above water, he struggled to paddle ashore. But something -his clothes and shoes, he guessed-dragged and sucked him under a second time.

When he came up again, he felt an arm on the shoulder of his coat. "Quit splashing!" said a voice in his ear. It was Sam Wolters who had come to his assistance, and obediently he ceased struggling. Turning on his side, Sam struck out for shore with long, clean sweeps of his right arm; and in no time at all, and almost in no distance at all, Jimmy felt himself set on his feet, with the water only up to his waist. He waded to the bank without speaking. As soon as he was safe on land and had somewhat

recovered his composure, he said, "Sam, I haven't any money now, but I expect to get a dollar pretty soon and I'll give it to you as a reward."

"Reward!" Sam laughed heartily. "Say, do you think I pulled you out for money? I did it because there wasn't anything else to do."

"But it was like working for me," Jimmy argued, "and I ought to pay you what the job was worth. Don't you see that?"

"Oh, it's all right to work for money," admitted Sam. "If a man hires you to work for him, why, of course, he ought to pay you. But when a fellow's in trouble and you can help him, without its costing you anything, you have no right to expect pay." He paused reflectively. "Say, if everybody deserved a reward for everything he did for somebody else, I guess I'd be owing a lot of money, because people have done more for me than I ever did for them." "Oh!" said Jimmy. He hadn't thought of it that

way.

"Most of the things you do for folks are-are courtesies, or or favors," Sam went on. "If somebody says, 'Please pass the butter,' and you pass it, you don't want a reward, do you? And if somebody drops his handkerchief and you pick it up and give it back, you don't want a reward, do you? Why, if you expected pay for everything you did for anybody else, you'd have to keep people from coming near you, for fear you'd owe them more than you had. You-you'd have to quit having friends.

Shucks! Any time you feel like falling into the creek, White, I'll pull you out for nothing. "Yes," said Jimmy quietly, too natural, "yes, I have to see a man."

Got to go?" quietly to be

Dr. Clarke was at home. He was sitting on the front porch, and saw Jimmy and the dog enter the yard.

"Hello!" he greeted. "So you're back again, Prince. Yes, and I'm just as glad to see you as you are to see me, old friend." For a minute or two the man and his dog frolicked happily. Then the doctor turned to Jimmy. "So you found him and brought him back, did you?"

"Yes, sir," answered Jimmy, as if it were a lesson in memory, "I found him and brought him back."

"Fine! It's worth a good deal to see Prince again." The physician thrust a hand suggestively into his pocket. "I suppose I owe you something for your trouble?"

"Why, no, sir," said Jimmy, and all at once it was very clear to him; "I'm glad I could help you a little, Dr. Clarke, just as I'd want you to help me a little, if I needed it. No, sir; of course you don't owe me anything."

The doctor smiled. It was such a big, kindly, encouraging sort of smile that, before Jimmy realized it, he was telling all about finding Prince and about falling into the creek and about offering a reward to Sam Wolters and about the reel in Grogan's window. Every once in a while the man nodded understand

ingly, but he did not interrupt; and when the story was done, he held out his hand and took the boy's hand in his.

"Jimmy White," he said, "I like you, and I'm glad you've learned the lesson about rewards. Mean things, rewards are. If all the world were honest and friendly, you'd never hear of them." He leaned forward and abruptly changed the subject. "Do you like cherries, Jimmy?"

Later, when they were in the back yard, and Dr. Clarke had pointed out the cherry trees, heavy with fruit, and told Jimmy to help himself, the man broached another matter.

"I want to hire two reliable boys to pick those cherries for me," he said. "It would take about a day, I think, and I could afford to pay each boy a dollar. Now I wonder if you and Sam Wolters wouldn't like the job?"

Jimmy gasped. It was like some wonderful dream coming true. "Yes, sir, if you please, sir," he said eagerly. Afterwards, around the corner, Jimmy White turned himself into an automobile, cranked, threw in the clutch, and shifted into high speed.

At the bridge over the creek he stopped long enough to tell the delighted fisherman about the job. And then, just as people did in stories, he said to himself, "Grogan's hardware store, James!" and speeded down town for another look at the reel.

-Leslie W. Quirk