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 find a new clerk in a day. You can't tell him at the last minute."

"I never thought of that," Bert said weakly.

"That's the trouble, Bert," the Butterfly Man sighed. "Fellows of your age forget so many things."

Here was a complication as disastrous as it was unexpected. The boy pictured in his mind the interview that had to be, and did not find it to his liking. He had not given a thought to how this might affect his father's fortunes. . . he had been too much concerned with the rosy promise of his own chance. Why, this was just like. . . just like stealing a clerk out of the store.

Contrition smote him. He had not been much of a help to the business, but even his going had been felt. The loss of Sam Sickles would be a calamity. Since the evening he had brought his accordion downstairs he and his father had had many fine hours. . . but he nursed no false conceptions of what to-night would bring. His father's face would darken and then a wrath of words would pour down upon his head. It wasn't a pleasant thing to think about.

The shadow of it lay over him all the way back to Springham. The mellow chimes of a church bell announced six o'clock as he rode into town. While yet some distance from the house, he dismounted from his wheel and pushed it before him; and instead of leaving the bicycle propped against