"And does he always get it?" asked Paul, looking suddenly interested.

"I don't believe he's failed for six months. Of course Mr. Crusty knows
what we want, and wraps the loaf up so as to keep the dust off. Why, that
ain't the best of his tricks, by a long shot. I taught him when he was
hungry to go--"

"Excuse me, won't you, Jack; there comes father, and I do believe he's
heading home long before his usual time. Perhaps he's afraid mother may
hear that something has happened to me, and would be anxious. I'd better
jump in with him, don't you think? Another time I'll hear all about the
wonderful stunts of Carlo."

And so speaking Paul ran out to join his father in the buggy.

Jack looked after him, and sighed heavily. It was not that he felt a
particle jealous of the recent exploit which his chum had engineered so
successfully; for envy was not one of his failings. But he did wish that
his mind was as free from anxiety and suspicion as that of Paul Morrison.

For the mystery of those disappearing coins hung about his neck like a
millstone, nor could he ever know peace again until in some way it were
explained.

What happened at the Morrison home when the doctor told the story of his
boy's heroism no one ever knew; for Paul was not the one to betray family
secrets.

But Jack, who understood what an affectionate mother his chum had, could