The magic of her voice worked its will on Mr. Campbell, as on all
others. He came in, sat down, hooked his thumb into his vest
pocket, and smiled at her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"We are collecting for our school library, and we have called to
ask you for a contribution," she replied.

"Why should I contribute to your school library?" demanded Mr.
Campbell.

This was a poser for us. Why should he, indeed? But the Story
Girl was quite equal to it. Leaning forward, and throwing an
indescribable witchery into tone and eyes and smile, she said,

"Because a lady asks you."

Mr. Campbell chuckled.

"The best of all reasons," he said. "But see here, my dear young
lady, I'm an old miser and curmudgeon, as you may have heard. I
HATE to part with my money, even for a good reason. And I NEVER
part with any of it, unless I am to receive some benefit from the
expenditure. Now, what earthly good could I get from your three
by six school library? None whatever. But I shall make you a
fair offer. I have heard from my housekeeper's urchin of a son
that you are a 'master hand' to tell stories. Tell me one, here
and now. I shall pay you in proportion to the entertainment you
afford me. Come now, and do your prettiest."