's fair and
square. I put down in writing all folks give me to sell, and sign my name
to it. If you don't gain nothing, you don't lose nothing."

Dan was thinking fast. Twenty-five dollars,--twenty-five dollars! There
was only a chance, it is true; and a very slim chance at that. But what
would twenty-five dollars mean to him, to Aunt Winnie? For surely and
steadily, in the long, pleasant summer days, in the starlit watches of the
night, his resolution was growing: he must live and work for Aunt Winnie;
he could not leave her gentle heart to break in its loneliness, while he
climbed to heights beyond her reach; he could not let her die, while he
dreamed of a future she would never see. Being only a boy, Dan did not put
the case in just such words. He only felt with a fierce determination
that, in spite of the dull pain in his heart at the thought, he must give
up St. Andrew's when this brief seaside holiday was past, and work for
Aunt Winnie. And a little ready cash to make a new start in Mulligan's
upper rooms would help matters immensely. Just now he had not money enough
for a fire in the rusty little stove, or to move Aunt Winnie and her old
horsehair trunk from the Little Sisters.

"All right!" he said, with sudden resolve. "Take the medal and try it."

And old Jonah, who was not half so dull as, for commercial purposes, he
looked, turned to an old mahogany desk propped up on three legs, and gave
the young owner a duly signed receipt for one silver-rimmed bronze medal,
date 1850, and the business was concluded.

"Suppose you really get twenty-five dollars, Dan," said Freddy, as they
bade old Jonah good-bye and kept on their way. "What will you do with
it?"

"I'm not saying," replied Dan, mindful of his promise to Father Mack. "But
I'll start something, you can bet, Freddy!"

And then they went on down to the wharf, where the "Sary Ann" lay at her
moorings, and Brother Bart was seated on a bench in pleasant converse with
the Irish sexton of the little church, who had been showing the friendly
old Brother some of the sights of the town.

"Here come my boys now. This is Dan Dolan, and this is my own laddie that
I've been telling ye about, Mr. McNally. And where--where are the others?"
questioned Brother Bart, anxiously.

"I don't know," answered Dan, after he had reciprocated Mr. McNally's
hearty hand-shake. "Dud said something about going to the Fosters."

"Sure and that isn't hard to find," said Mr. McNally.