“This chap says it’s the lady’s property,” explained the clerk who was looking after the boy. “Say the word, sir, and we’ll put him out.”
He laid a hand on the urchin’s shoulder, but the boy spoke up insistently:
“It is hers, sir! I seen her lose it outen the cab winder, an’ I picked it up, an’ ran to catch ’er, an’ I seen her jest as she came in the whirligig door, an’ I got here as soon as they’d let me!”
“That awful-looking bundle, Betty’s!” cried Dorothy, in disgust. “Of course it isn’t! What nonsense!”
At this the clerk made as if to eject the boy who had brought the bundle, and then Betty’s sense of justice was aroused. It was awful to claim ownership of that disreputable piece of property, but it was worse, in her estimation, to have an innocent boy reprimanded for doing what he had believed to be right.
“It is mine,” she said bravely, though her cheeks grew scarlet at the surprised glances cast upon her, not only by her friends, but by strangers who happened to be passing.
“It is mine,” she repeated, turning to the boy, “and you did right to bring back to me what you thought I had lost. But I want to lose it, as it is of no use to me. So if you will please take it away and dispose of it properly, I will be much obliged to you, and I will give you this.”
Betty took a two-dollar bill from her purse, and offered it to the boy, who still held the bundle.
“Sure, lady,” he said, flashing a grateful glance at her. “You’re a white one, you are! Thank you, lady!”
The clerk smiled and bowed, and ushered the small boy away. The urchin turned to give Betty one more admiring look, and she smiled pleasantly at him, and said: