buttons with loafing urchins of his own kind--"alley rats" his
father angrily called them--or leading a predatory gang of
the same unsavory companions in raids on other stores in the
neighborhood.

And Dan, Junior "had it in" for Hiram. He had not forgiven the
bigger boy for pitching him into the puddle.

"An' them was my best clo'es, and now maw says I've got to wear
'em just the same on Sunday, and they're shrunk and stained,"
snarled the younger Dan, hovering about Hiram as the latter
re-dressed the fruit stand during a moment's let-up in the
Saturday morning rush. "Gimme an orange."

"What! At five cents apiece?" exclaimed Hiram. "Guess not. Go
look in the basket under the bench; maybe there's a specked one
there."

"Nope. Dad took 'em all home last night and maw cut out the
specks and sliced 'em for supper. Gimme a good orange."

"Ask your father," said Hiram.

"Naw, I won't!" declared young Dwight, knowing very well what his
father's answer would be.

He suddenly made a grab for the golden globe on the apex of
Hiram's handsomest pyramid.

"Let that alone, Dan!" cried Hiram, and seized the youngster by