"The druggist took him to a little room back of the store. 'Here,' he
said, 'is a chest of nails and bolts. You may sort them.'

"The boy worked for a while, and then he said to himself, 'What a queer
job this is!' He went back into the store and said to the druggist, 'If
that is all you have for me to do, I don't believe I want the job.'

"'Very well,' said the druggist, 'that is all I have for you to do just
now.' He paid Henry for the work he had already done, and the boy went
home.

"The druggist went back to the little room, and found bolts and nails
scattered all over the floor. He put them back in the chest; and then
he hung his sign in the window again.

"The next day Joe passed by and saw the sign; and he too went in and
asked for the job. The druggist took him to the little room and showed
him the chest of nails, and told him to sort them.

"When the boy had worked only a little while, he went back to the druggist
and said, 'Those rusty old nails are no good. Why don't you let me throw
them all away? I don't like this kind of job, anyway.'

"'All right,' said the druggist; and he paid Joe for what he had done,
and let him go. As he put the nails and bolts back in the chest he said
to himself, 'I am willing to pay more than this to find a really honest
boy.'

"Later Joe and Henry, sauntering down the street together, saw the same
sign in the window--'Boy Wanted. Apply in Person.'