“Down there in tin pans, crying her eyes out,” muttered Teddy.
The woman started in the direction of Miss Newton.
“Wait a minute.” Inspiration had come to Teddy. His hand went into his trousers’ pocket. Only that morning he had received his salary. “Here.” He fished up three new one-dollar bills. Separating one of them from its companions, he held it up. “I’m goin’ to give her this. How much are the rest of you goin’ to give?”
“There’s a dollar for you, Reddy.” Sam Hickson laid the mate to Teddy’s dollar in the boy’s hand.
“I’ll give you fifty cents. I know how it goes. I can’t spare any more.” This came from the woman who had volunteered to break the news.
“I’ll give a dollar,” volunteered another salesman.
“Here’s fifty cents more,” smiled a pretty girl, opening a tiny purse she had taken from her apron pocket. “Listen, Teddy, go ’round the department and ask everybody.”
“Hold this.” Teddy thrust the money he had collected into Hickson’s hand and sped off on his errand of mercy. He was back within a few moments with the encouraging news, “Got two dollars more.”
“What’s all this?” demanded a brusque voice. “How often have I said to you, ‘don’t stand in groups?’” Mr. Everett had appeared on the scene with a suddenness that startled the knot of workers gathered about Teddy.
“The Gob—Miss Newton’s lost her purse. She feels awful. We’ve got six dollars, and we’re goin’ to give it to her,” announced Teddy almost defiantly. He had flushed rosy red.