“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.

“Oh, no, thank you!” exclaimed Mollie.

“We are only too glad to help you,” added Betty.  “You have done us a service in looking after the little girl.”

“To say nothing of the five hundred dollar bill,” added Grace, in a low tone.

“Hush!” cautioned Betty, in a whisper.  “Don’t let him know anything about it.”

“And you are sure you wouldn’t know that man again?” asked Mollie.  “I mean the one you spoke of?”

“Well, I’d know him if I saw him, but I’m not likely to.  He was tall and good looking, with a little black mustache.  He got out of the train in a hurry when he woke up.  You see, he was sitting with his window open—­it was very hot—­he fell asleep.  I noticed him tossing around in his seat, and every once in a while he would feel in his pocket.  Then he hollered.”

“Maybe someone robbed him,” suggested Betty, yet in her heart she knew the bill she had found must belong to this unknown young man—­the very man to whom they had once given something to eat.

“No one was in the car but him and me,” said the boy, “and I know I didn’t get it.  Maybe he didn’t have it—­or maybe it fell out of the window.  Anyhow, he cut up an awful row and rushed out.  He might have dreamed it.”

“Me want to go home!” whined Nellie.

“All right—­I’ll take you,” spoke the boy.  “I can walk fine now.  Thank you very much,” and he pulled on his shoe, gingerly enough, for the cut was no small one.  Then, shouldering his pack, and taking hold of Nellie’s hand—­one having been refilled with chocolates by Grace—­the boy peddler moved off down the road limping, the girls calling out good-bys to him.

“I hope it’s all right—­to let that child go off with him,” said Mollie.

“Of course it is,” declared Betty.  “That boy had the nicest, cleanest face I’ve ever seen.  And he must suffer from that cut.”

“Oh, I think it will be all right,” said Amy.  “You could trust that boy.”

“I agree with you,” remarked Grace.  “Fancy him seeing the man lose the five hundred dollar bill we found!” she added.

“Do you think it’s the same one?” asked Betty.