Again Uncle Hector stroked his chain and twisted his mouth. And Cyrus smiled up at him, the smile of triumph. It was obvious, even to Ruth, that this opening skirmish was a victory for Cyrus. She also smiled up at Uncle Hector and nodded, signifying that her escort was an able person. But Uncle Hector was not vanquished. He laid the dollar on the counter, off near Cyrus' face, to make it clear there was no forcible retention of doubtful property--that justice should be rendered to the smallest boy as fairly as to the biggest man. Then he straightened up, pushed back his coat and inserted his thumbs in the arm holes of his vest. And there was something in his smile and in his confident manner that caused uneasiness in Ruth. "If I should go to your house, Cyrus, and carry off a handsome sled with the name Hiawatha on it in blue letters, refuse to give it back, and say 'findin's is keepin's--would that be all right?" "No, sir, because you know it's my sled, and there's no other like it." Again was Uncle Hector taken by surprise, and in his face the two children saw signs of the hesitation which often leads to defeat. Ruth's faith in Cyrus rose yet higher. As she smiled at the tall figure behind the counter her expression said as plainly as words, "Nobody can get ahead of Cyrus." But Uncle Hector, while not prepared for such an answer to his question, even now was unconquered. "Cyrus," he said, "you'll make a great lawyer some day. You are mighty good at an argument. But suppose a stranger took that sled, and when you ran after him and told it was yours, he should say 'findin's is keepin's and refuse to give it up. Would that be all right?" "Oh, no!" "Why not?" "Because I had told him it was mine." "Well, now, Mrs. Bennett bought seventy cents worth of tea and sewing silk just before you and Ruth came in. She laid a dollar bill on the counter and I gave her the change--thirty cents. Then we went away for a minute to the back of the store and left it lying here. When I came back I found you claimed it, saying 'findin's is keepin's.' So, if you keep it, I lose seventy cents' worth of tea and sewing silk and thirty cents in cash." Cyrus frowned, and looked sidewise at the bill. Ruth also frowned. As she looked up at the jar that held the striped candy tears came to her eyes. Uncle Hector smiled pleasantly upon the two troubled faces and inquired in his gentlest manner: "Now, Cyrus, just as man to man, whose bill do you think it is?" Cyrus worked his lips, and looked away. He stood firm on his legs, but inwardly he staggered beneath the blow. It was a whole dollar, and gone--gone forever, before he could spend it! He might never have another. Full grown men have been known to collapse under sudden loss of fortune. He dared not look at Ruth. It might unnerve him for the sacrifice. With tightened lips and blinking eyes he reached up over the counter and silently pushed the bill away, as far toward the new owner as his short arm could do it.