nearly a month later, he went crying into his father's
office, saying that Matches was gone. Stuart and Sim Williams had dug
her up and sold her skeleton to a naturalist in the next block for
fifty cents. He had just heard of it. I never saw a child so excited.
He was sobbing so hard that he could not breathe except in great
choking gasps, and it was some time before his father could quiet him
enough to understand what he was talking about.

Oh, but Doctor Tremont was angry! And yet it did not sound so bad when
Stuart had explained it. He hadn't thought that he was doing anything
dishonest or unkind to Phil. He only thought what an easy way it would
be to make fifty cents. He didn't see how it could make any difference
to Phil, so long as he never found it out, and Sim had sworn not to
tell. The mound would still be there, and he could go on putting
flowers on it just the same. Sim was the one who had first spoken of
it, and Sim had half the money.

I was not in the room all of the time, so I cannot tell what passed
between Stuart and his father. I could hear the doctor's voice for a
long time, talking in low, deep tones, very earnestly. I know he said
something about Phil's being such a little fellow, and how the mother
who had gone away would have been grieved to know that he was so
unhappy. What he said must have hurt Stuart more than a whipping, for
when he came out his eyes were red, and he looked as solemn as an
owl.

He had promised his father several things. One was that he would have
nothing more to do with Sim Williams, who was always leading him into
trouble, and another was that he would beg Phil's pardon, and do
something to make up for the injury he had done him. Stuart thought
and thought a long time what that should be. I know the doctor's talk
must have gone deep, for by and by he took _me_,--_Dago_,--his
best-beloved possession, and gave me to Phil.

At first the little fellow couldn't believe it. "Oh, brother!" he
cried. "Do you really mean it? Is it for keeps?"

"Yes, it's for keeps," said Stuart, grimly. Then he put his hands in
his pockets and walked away, whistling, although there were tears in
his eyes. But Phil ran after him with me in his arms.

"Oh, I couldn't take _all_ of him, Stuart," he said. "You are too
good. That would be too much, when you are so fond of him. But I'd
love to own half of him. Let's go partnerships. You claim half, and
I'll claim half."

Well, they decided to se