“You’re a man, even though you did wrong,” declared Mr. Marsh. He gave the word “man” special emphasis. He wished to impress upon every boy present his appreciation of the courageous spirit that had prompted two boys to tell the truth, even in the face of dismissal.
“Now, boys, because you have been honest with yourselves and with me, I’m going to give you both another chance to retrieve yourselves. Your names will have to go to Mr. Keene, as the principals in this affair, but he has left the rest to me. I’m not going to allow you to go scot-free. That wouldn’t be fair to the boys who keep the rules of the store. I’m going to give each of you six demerits to help you remember that Martin Brothers’ store isn’t a playground. Give me your cards.”
Two hands went into two breast pockets with positive alacrity. Taking out his fountain pen, Mr. Marsh went to a small desk at the end of the room and laying the cards on top of it put six sinister marks on each of them. He handed them back with, “Tend strictly to business hereafter, boys.” Then, with a pleasant nod to the young man in charge of the assembly, he left the room. But the little he had said had sunk deeper into the boyish hearts of the culprits than if he had given them a severe rating.
“I never was so glad to get anything in my life as I was to get those demerits,” murmured Teddy, in Harry’s ear. “I don’t want to leave this store, Harry. I never knew how stuck on it I was until I thought I was goin’ to lose my job.”
“I’m glad it came out right,” whispered Harry. “I want to stay here, too—if Mr. Barton’ll let me,” he added too low for Teddy to hear.
Beginning with his anxiety over Teddy’s trouble, things seemed determined to go wrong with him that morning. Miss Leonard’s clock happened to be a trifle slow and Harry arrived in the department at least five minutes late. Luckily for him, Mr. Barton was off the floor at the time, and he escaped a demerit. Then, too, Miss Welch was in a bad humor—something quite unusual for her—over a credit that had been lost.
“It’s a good thing Barty didn’t see you come in late,” she remarked crossly, as Harry approached her desk. “You want to see to it that you get around on time, 45.”
“Miss Leonard’s clock was slow,” defended Harry.
“Tell that to old Smarty Barty and see what he says,” was her short rejoinder. Then, noting the boy’s hurt look, she repented her curtness and apologized, “Don’t mind me, Kiddo. I’m cranky enough to-day to bite a ten-penny nail into three pieces. I’ve had a string of customers a rod long at this desk ever since the store opened. This is our grand annual exchange day, I guess.” She smiled enough to show her dimples, and Harry brightened visibly.
Trouble lay in wait for him, however. Not an hour later, as he happened to stop for a moment in one of the aisles of the book department, a man rushed up to him and asked hurriedly, “Where will I find running water?”