"Why, Mollie, girl, you're a fairy on your feet," praised Mrs. Dustin and the happy face at her breast flushed with pleasure and gratitude at the words. Peter was not the least bit surprised at his mother's antics. He knew that she was a glorious mother and full of surprises. The other youngsters however were not so sure. So Peter suggested to the proprietor that he start the graphophone. The proprietor nodded and soon they were all dancing, Mrs. Dustin taking a new partner every few minutes. "And children," she suddenly remembered, "Joe can jig--why, he used to jig beautifully." So Joe took his turn in amusing the children and while he did it Mrs. Dustin examined some machines lined up along the wall. "When you drop a nickel in the slot do you get gum, peanuts or your fortune told or does a Punch and Judy pop out?" she laughingly and innocently asked Sim and Sammy Berwick who stood near. Sim looked uneasy and Sammy said, "Aw, them things are no good, Mrs. Dustin. You don't want to monkey with them. You might--" But Mrs. Dustin was already dropping her nickel in and when Peter came up she was shaking out an empty purse. "Why, Peter, what's the matter with these machines? I guess I didn't work them right. I've dropped all my money in, and I haven't gotten a thing. It's the money I was saving for the framing of that picture Mr. Rollins gave me. Don't you think you can get it for me? Jemmy Hills sent me word to-day that the picture was all framed and ready." Peter all at once looked sick. He knew how his mother had been saving to buy a pretty frame for the lovely water color Bernard Rollins had given her. She had even given up the idea of a new knot of flowers for her hat. And now she had dropped the precious coins down the hungry mouth of a slot machine. And the worst of it was she didn't seem to know what she had done. "Mother," Peter began miserably, "you've lost the money and I don't see how you can ask--" "Oh, well, Peter Boy,--never mind. I expect it's some new game and I didn't play it right. I'm sorry I was stupid. Let's see what else we can do. I wanted to treat you children to soda but maybe Joe has some money. Joe," she called merrily to the shoemaker, "won't you treat?" Joe caught the odd little note in her voice. His hand rattled the loose change in his pocket and he smiled a spontaneous smile that had however more than a bit of malice in it. "Sure, I'll treat," and he turned to the proprietor who still looked as though he was seeing things but came to life when Joe stepped up to the counter. "What'll you have?" "Oh," said Joe carelessly, "give me what you give the rest of the boys," and here Joe winked at the proprietor. "And I'll have the same," laughed Mrs. Dustin, and again Joe winked at the proprietor. But the children had grown strangely quiet, especially the boys. And slim Mollie once more grew frightened as she watched the proprietor setting out glass after glass of foaming beer.