"Don't say anything, Joel," said Ben, hurriedly, and dragging him off; "here, just look at that steam-engine, will you?"
Polly shut her fingers over the half-dollar, and still holding Phronsie's hand, she leaned over the small shoulder, which now she saw was thin, and touched the rusty black coat sleeve. "That's for the woolly dog," she said softly, so nobody heard, and slipping the half-dollar into the red hand without any glove on.
"Oh, my!" cried the girl, staring first at her hand with the silver half-dollar shining up at her from the middle of it, and then into Polly's face, "what's that for?"
"You were so good to us," said Polly, simply, and before the girl could say a word, she had slipped back to Ben, and this time they were soon lost in the crowd down the aisle, on their way to another shop.
"You've given away a whole half-dollar," gasped Joel, staring up into Ben's face.
"Hush!" said Ben, hauling him on, as Polly flew back; "well, now, then, we must hurry, else we never will get through."
"Yes, we must get Phronsie's cat," said Polly, with a happy little thrill. "Oh, Ben, just think," she whispered, for Ben never could bear to be thanked, "she's bought that woolly dog by this time, I 'most know."
"Do hush!" begged Ben.
"Oh, now, I know you are whispering secrets," declared Joel, trying to crowd in between them.
"No, we are not," said Polly, "really and truly we are not; are we, Ben?"