He poohed at it, said it was impossible; but upon their insisting, he at last brought them before the old gentleman. He was struck with their straightforward story, and impossible as it seemed, was resolved to test it. Molly was sent for and told so straight a story of the beautiful lady and the shining jewel, of the bright pennies he gave her, and of other things she had seen, that a visit was made to the attic room. Molly took her fearful step on to the roof in an easy way that showed it was perfectly familiar, followed by the manager, who was a slight man. She showed him the peep-hole and how she could see everything in the room below, and he returned in almost speechless amazement. The next thing was to pick out the boy who had done it, and this Molly had to do, though she would not have consented except for her pity for the shop-girl now shut up in jail. All the boys of the store were made to stand up in line, and Molly was told to pick out the boy. It did not need her word, however, for the guilty boy turned red and white, and at last fell at the feet of the old gentleman and confessed all. That was a time of triumph for the sisters: first they received--to their amazement--the five hundred dollars reward which had been offered, and then they were given better places in the store at much higher wages, and Molly was adopted by the beautiful lady whose valuable jewels she had been the means of recovering. The sisters hated to give Molly up, but seeing the great benefit it would be for her, they consented. With the money they bought a tiny home in a country suburb, and came every day to their work on the cars. There they live nicely now, and Molly often goes to see them. They have been advanced to fine positions and are prosperous and happy. * * * * * When the story was ended, Kristy drew a long sigh. "That was splendid! was it true? How I should like to see Molly's play-room." "Yes, it is true; but you can never see it," said her mother, "for the next year the store was built up a story or two higher, and the play-house on the roof was no more." "There's the lunch bell," said Kristy, "will you tell me some more after lunch?" "Dear me, Kristy," said her mother, with a sigh, "you are certainly incorrigible; don't you _ever_ get tired of stories?" "Never!" said Kristy emphatically; "I could listen to stories all day and all night too, I guess." Mrs. Crawford hesitated; Kristy went on. "Won't you tell me stories as long as it rains?" "Well, yes," began Mrs. Crawford, who had noted signs of clearing. But Kristy interrupted, shouting, "It's a bargain! it's a bargain! you said yes! Now let's go to lunch; I'm in a hurry to begin the next story." "Well," said Mrs. Crawford, when they returned to the sitting-room after lunch, "if I'm to tell stories all day, you certainly should do something, too; it isn't fair for me to do all the work." "I will," said Kristy laughing; "I'll listen."