Such a harrowing thought now popped into Jerry's mind that unconsciously
he closed his fingers entirely around the precious half-dollar. What if
it were Mr. Barton's! Perhaps he had knocked it out of Mr. Barton's
pocket when he ran into him. He had heard the clink of its fall just
after the collision, as he lay on the ground.

After a short but sharp struggle with himself, Jerry looked up and held
out the money to Mr. Barton. He tried to smile, but was conscious that
the twisting of his lips didn't look much like a smile.

"It's yours, I guess, Mr. Barton."

"Mine!" exclaimed the surprised drug clerk. "You saw it first."

"Yes, but I heard it fall just after I ran into you. I must of knocked
it out of your pocket. I didn't have no half-dollar."

"No more did I," replied Mr. Barton.

"You didn't!" exclaimed Jerry, and joy came unbidden back into his eyes
and there was a very different feel to his lips. He knew that it was a
real smile this time.

"Not this late in the week," Mr. Barton informed him. "It's too long
after pay day for me to have that much money. I've got just thirty-five
cents."

He drew some small coins out of his pocket.