"Did he get hurt?" asked Amy, breathlessly.
"No, ma'am, not as I could see. The train was slowing up at a station, you know. I think it was Batesville, but I'm not sure."
"That's the next station beyond Deepdale," murmured Grace.
"What's that, ma'am?" asked the boy, respectfully.
"Oh, nothing. We just know where it is, that's all. A five hundred dollar bill! Fancy!" She glanced meaningly at her companions.
"Well, that's what he hollered," said the boy. "And he was real excited, too."
"Did you know him?" asked Betty, as she finished with the bandage.
"Never saw him before nor since. It was quite some time ago. I'd just bought a new line of goods. Anyhow, I'm glad it wasn't me. I couldn't afford to lose many five hundred dollar bills," and he laughed frankly. "That's about as much as I make in a year—I mean, altogether," he said, quickly, lest the girls get an exaggerated notion of the peddling business. "I can't make that clear, though I hope to some time," he said, proudly.
"Me want to go home," broke in little Nellie. "Me want my muvvers."
"All right, I'll take you to your real mother," spoke the boy peddler. "I guess I can walk now, thank you," he said to Betty. "Couldn't I give you something—some letter paper—a pencil. I've got a nice line of pencils," he motioned toward his pack.