o more. You can have it."

Miss Bailey dropped into her chair. "Isidore!" cried she. "Oh, Isidore!
You're the cleverest boy! I would rather have this bag than anything
else in the world."

A moment later her joy was gone again. The bag was absolutely empty, and
Constance Bailey did some of the keenest thinking of her career.

"It would be quite perfect," said she, "if I only had a few little
things in it. Perhaps a transfer, a lace collar, or some pieces of
paper"--she caught the gleam in Isidore's rabbit eye, and amended
quickly--"not money, of course. It would be foolish to carry money in a
bag like this"--the gleam vanished--"but just a few papers and things
would seem more natural."

"Stands somethings like that to my house," Isidore vouchsafed
generously. "Mine auntie don't needs them too."

"Then perhaps," said Constance Bailey carefully, "perhaps, dear, your
aunt would let me have them."

"I likes," said Isidore, dashing off at an unmistakably natural tangent,
"I likes I shall be monitors maybe off of somethings."

Miss Bailey felt the teeth of the trap, but she knew that her hand was
touching the very life of Gertie Armusheffsky, and she made no effort to
escape. "And what sort of a monitor would you like to be?" she asked
casually.

"Off of supplies," was his decided answer.

"I think that could be arranged," she replied. "And these little things
to put in my bag?"

"I could to git 'em 'fore the other kids comes in," said Isidore.

And a few moments later she had obtained leave of absence from the
principal, and was buttoning her gloves while she gave her final
instructions to the substitute who would minister until luncheon hour to
the First Readers.

"I'm quite sure you will have no trouble. The children understand that
I shall be back in the afternoon. If you want pencils, paper, or
anything else, Isidore Cohen will get them for you. For Isidore"--and
she laid her hand upon his narrow head--"Isidore is monitor of
supplies."

Very late that afternoon a disillusioned monitor of supplies fared
unostentatiously homeward from Room 18. He had never met candor equal to
Miss Bailey's, and he was in the grip of the paralyzing conviction that
for as long as he remained within her sphere of influence, honesty would
be the only expedient policy.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 32 (illustration): "