he old man colored to the roots of his hair. "You 're very fresh,
young feller," he snarled.

"Yes; warranted to keep in any climate," said Checkers, smiling
good-naturedly at him.

Arthur happened along just then, and soothed and waited upon Uncle
Jerry, getting him peaceably out of the store.

In the morning at breakfast he related the incident to Mr. Kendall, who
he knew would appreciate it.

"There is only one man about here meaner than old Jerry Halter," said
Mr. Kendall, addressing Checkers, "and that is the father of Arthur's
little friend, Miss Barlow. I once heard a friend of mine say of him
that 'he wouldn't smile unless it was at another man's expense,' and I
quite believe it. Arthur could tell you no end of humorous things
about him, if he only would. But I suppose he does n't want to relate
what may some day be family secrets. How is that, Arthur?"

Arthur looked annoyed, but did not reply to this bit of parental humor.

"As soon as Pert and Sadie come home you must take Mr. Campbell to call
on them, Arthur," said Aunt Deb. "They are two lovely girls," she
continued, turning to Checkers. "They 've been away to school; to a
seminary up in Illinois. School's out now, of course, but they 're
visiting somewhere--in St. Louis, I believe. They 're expected home
this week, though; so you 'll have the pleasure of meeting them soon."

"Sisters?" asked Checkers.

"No; not sisters, but cousins, and almost inseparable. Sadie is n't as
pretty as Pert, but she 's just as sweet as sweet can be, and a perfect
treasure about a house. Are you fond of young ladies, Mr. Campbell?"

Checkers hardly knew what to say. "I 'm a great admirer of girls in
general," he replied, after a moment's hesitation, "and they 've always
struck me as being a mighty nice thing to kind of have around. But I
've had very little experience with them--that is, at least, in the
last two years."

The truth was, that the friends with whom Checkers had gone to live in
Chicago, after his mother's death, had been people of true worth and
refinement. They were poor--a widowed mother and two daughters--and
the liberal sum which Checkers insisted upon paying them for his
monthly maintenance was to them a matter of grateful benefit. But
they, in return, had exercised a restraining influence over him; had
taught him to be courteous and gentlemanly, deferential to his elders,
and respectful toward women, or, at least to maintain such an