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 his head now to give directions, Chippy was caught in the act of "hefting" the missionary box.

"Ah," said Christy to himself, with vexed enlightenment. Hunting office boys was a bore.

"Why, this is empty!" said Chippy, facing round on him and holding out the box. "Did you send it off?"

"No," answered Christy, uncertainly. "It was full. I took the money out."

"I see," said Chippy. There was relief in his voice and in the clever, dark, little face.

He plunged his hand into his jacket and brought out a small newspaper parcel tied with twine.

"I promised Lin to bring it to you," he said. "It would have been too bad if I'd been too late."

"What is it?" asked Christy, receiving the packet with no show of distrust in its dinginess. And he was fastidious. "Who is Lin?"

"It's money. She's my sister," answered Chippy. "She wants it to go with the rest."

Christy pushed a chair towards him. "Sit down," he said. "Tell me all about it. Take your time."

Chippy crossed his knickerbockered legs, and by tilting forward a little managed to keep one toe on the carpet.

"There's two of us boys home," he began. "And there's Lin. My brother Bob and me are like lots of other fellows. But Lin is extry. I'd call her quite extry myself. She's like—well, she's like Lin. That's all I can say."

"I have seen one or two such persons." said Christy.

"One Sunday night one of those foreign preachers