Bundle was a little round, red-faced boy, who always wore a large scarf around his neck, and in most any kind of weather. The sellers were not surprised at any of their number finding money but, said a bootblack:
“What’s going to happen when slow-pokey Bundle finds something?” But he did, and at the enterance of one of the largest buildings in the city.
“There it was,” said Bundle, “all wide open before my eyes, I stumbled over it and the money scattered. Didn’t it Sam?”
There was nothing in the roll to indicate its owner. Some one accustomed to carrying money in his vest pocket had lost it. As soon as Bundle picked it up, he called to the boys across the street and on the corners. A dozen boys answered him, and they all marched towards the president’s office. Each boy had something to say.
“Say, pres., we come near losing you, didn’t we?” said Bundle, “but if you did go home I would have stayed up all night holding the dough until you come to your office.”
Bundle was rewarded, his companions were as delighted as he was. A happier lot of boys never walked the streets than these sellers.
The next morning, Bundle, with five other boys came into the office, their faces were long; Bundle looked sad.
“Bundle got a licking,” said one of the boys looking sympathetically at Bundle. The president looked surprised.
“Got a licking, and what for?”
“His mother licked him because he brought the money to you. She said it belonged to her and she could spend it as she liked.”