dances a barefooted youngster in a faded blue and white dress. It's
the little heroine of the lost nickel. For a second she gawps at us
sort of scared, and almost decides to scuttle back into the house.
Then she gets another look at Percey J., smiles shy, and sticks one
finger in her mouth. Percey he smiles back encouragin' and holds out a
big, friendly hand. That wins her.

"Oh, Daddy!" says she, puttin' her little fist in Percey's
confidential. "It's the mans what gimme the candy in the pitty box!"

As for Daddy Ross, he stares like he couldn't believe his eyes. But
there's the youngster cuddled up against Percey J.'s knee and glancin'
up at him admirin'.

"Is ut so, Mon?" demands Ross husky, "Was it you give the lass the
sweeties?"

"Why, yes," admitted Sturgis.

"Then you shall be knowin'," goes on Ross, "that yon lassie is all I
have left in the world that I care a bawbee for. You've done it, Mon.
Tak' as much of the farm as you like at your own price."

Well, that's the way Percey J. Sturgis won out. A lucky stroke, eh?
Take it from me, there was more'n that in it. Hardly a word he says
durin' the run back; for he's as quiet and easy when he's on top as
when he's the under dog. We shakes hands friendly as he drops me
uptown long after dark.

I had all night to think it over; but when I starts for Old Hickory's