d Percy, rather ruefully.

"When are you going to pay me?"

"I don't know," answered Percy.

"But that won't do, don't you know," returned Reginald frowning. "I may
go away next week, and I want my money."

"I would pay it to you if I had it," said Percy; "but you know I have
only my allowance of two dollars a week."

"Stuff and nonsense! Do you think you are going to put me off that way?"
demanded Reginald angrily. "I must have my money."

"Then I don't see how you're going to get it," said Percy doggedly. "I
can't pay what I haven't got."

"Go to your father and ask for it."

"As if he would give it to me! You don't know him."

"Doesn't he ever leave money lying round?" asked Reginald significantly.

"What do you mean?" asked Percy, reddening.

"I see you understand. I was only suggesting a way to get the money."

"I am not a thief."

"Who said you were? I see I shall have to take the matter into my own
hands."

"How? What do you mean?" asked Percy nervously.

"I will go to your father, show him this I O U of yours, and ask him
for the money."

"You wouldn't do that, Reginald? He would be awful mad with me, and you
wouldn't get your money, either."

"I must do something. I can't afford to lose the money."

"Just wait a day or two. I'll see what I can do."

"Mind you do something, then."

Percy regretted that he had ever made the acquaintance of Reginald Ward,
or consented to play poker with him, but the regret came too late. The
mischief was done, and he saw from Ward's determined look that he must
do something. He was just in that frame of mind when temptations have
the most power.

In the evening he went to the village store to purchase a fishing-line,
for he had made an arrangement to go out fishing with Reginald Ward the
next day. He made the purchase, and was about to go when his eye caught
sight of a twenty-dollar bill lying on the desk. Mr. Jones had gone to
the other end of the store, and no one was looking. On the impulse of
the moment he seized the bill, and with his heart beating quickly, he
left the store. As he passed through the door Bert Barton entered with a
kerosene can in his hand, and walked up to the counter, taking his
stand near the desk.

CHAPTER XI.

THE TWENTY-DOLLAR BILL.

In order to understand what followed, it is necessary to explain that
the evening previous Bert and his mother found themselves out of money.
About a dollar was due the latter for cov