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 “I do,” said the Scout Master. “About the worst mess you can get into in this world is the one you get into when you don’t keep your millions straight. Dad says he guesses all the trouble in the world that is not about women is about money, and mostly if it’s about one of them, it’s about the other one, too.”

Having settled the financial end of the transaction, the Scout Master gave undivided attention to the hot dog. The combination struck Jamie as about what he wanted, also. It appealed to him further that he had no business, at that critical period, to partake of the combination that was entailed by the Scout Master’s idea of a perfect treat. He hesitated over it a second, then came off triumphant, although slightly humiliated to fail in being a good fellow.

“You know,” he said to the Scout Master, “I’ve been very sick and I’m not long out of the hospital and the doctor’s care. I think I won’t put my stomach up against that combination of yours. I’ll just go home and take a glass of orange juice instead.”

It touched his heart with particular appeal that the Scout Master said instantly: “Well, I’d go and take the orange juice with you, but I’ve got this started and I can’t waste it, so I have to pay for it and eat it, but the next time we’ll take the orange juice together, if orange juice is your limit until you get well.”

And then, trotting along the street beside Jamie, past a mouthful of the tantalizing combination, the Scout Master said: “Oh, gee! ain’t it goofy to be sick? I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t have a hot dog when I