orn.

"It would have been ridiculous had the art of making watches stopped
there," McPhearson acquiesced. "But fortunately, if the public was
content with such pretty, silly toy affairs, the horologers were not.
Patiently they continued the struggle to make timepieces better; and to
prove that all this nonsense about pretty watches was not without value,
I will tell you that it was while making a white enamel base on which to
paint a miniature that some clever person bethought him how nice a watch
face of white enamel would be with black figures printed upon it."

"It is never all loss without some gain, is it?" smiled Christopher.
"And clocks?"

"Clocks, too, were sharing the general improvement," answered
McPhearson. "The old system of the balance with its accompanying weights
and chains had passed, and the pendulum, now becoming less of a puzzle,
was coming into vogue. Makers had, however, been convinced by this time
that pendulums did not look well hanging down across the faces of
clocks, and so they now put them at the back, their swingings being
frequently concealed by projecting dials. So you see, the world was
moving on."

As he concluded this speech, McPhearson took off his working glasses,
substituted for them another pair, and began packing up his tools.

"There!" exclaimed he to Ebenezer, "I think you will find Seventeen will
do better after this. Don't blame the poor thing. It wasn't her fault."

"I'm glad to hear you say so, sir," returned the butler with a broad
smile. "I always did like that clock."

"The others, you say, are all right."

"Mostly, sir. Number Fifteen lagged a little and kept the master
botherin' for a while, but she's catchin' up now. I wouldn't dare have
you touch her 'cause she's runnin' too close to be disturbed."

"Then I'll go along. Give my respects to Mr. Hawley, Ebenezer."

"I will, sir," and the butler let his visitors out.

CHAPTER VIII

AN ADVENTURE

As they went out to board a returning bus, Christopher remarked
regretfully:

"I'd have given a cent to see the rest of those clocks."

"What clocks?" inquired McPhearson with surprise.

"Why, Mr. Hawley's."

The Scotchman halted abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk.

"My goodness!" ejaculated he. "I never thought of it! Why under the sun
didn't you speak up, laddie?"

"I didn't like to," replied the boy with diffidence. "I was afraid it
might bother somebody."

"Not an atom. On the contrary Ebe