It was Theodore, now, whose critical glance took in John Thomas,--a sturdy square-set figure, with baggy trousers and rusty shoes, the true Hennesy freckles and turned-up nose,--offset by keen blue eyes and the resolute chin. "He's a man!" thought Theodore. "He's neither afraid or ashamed of honest work,--and he saves his money, too. I wonder what he'd do in my place now, if he had a crowd of girls to treat every day with his hard earnings?" But it was difficult to imagine the figure at his side presiding at a soda fountain, and handing out refreshment to a bevy of young beauties, so Theodore gave it up with a sigh. John Thomas, unpleasantly aware of the scrutiny, bore it unflinchingly, but his chin squared itself again, and he thought, "He's a tenderfoot, that's what he is. He never had dirty hands in his life. I guess he's wonderin' who my tailor is." When Theodore reached the store he changed his coat for a linen one, dusted the counters, lifted the ice into the soda fountain, and gave all the glasses and spoons an extra polish. The recollection of John Thomas lingered with him, together with the sixty dollars in the bank which would be one hundred by September. "I'm in a false position," he thought angrily. "I'm making those girls believe I have all the money I want, and other people believe I'm an industrious and deserving young man. I'd change jobs with John Thomas Hennesy in a hurry if I could." The day was very warm, and by nine o'clock the soda water trade was brisk. Myrtle Blanchard was one of the early callers. She was a miss of fashion, like her older sisters, and aptly imitated their mincing ways. "Oh, isn't it just too dreadfully warm?" she gasped, fanning herself with her lace handkerchief and sinking onto one of the stools. "I really couldn't have gone another step without resting, if I had been paid for it." "It's hot," acquiesced Theodore, preparing a glass of orange phosphate for another customer. "Mr. Brown," he called over to the proprietor, who was sitting at the desk, "do you want me to collect that bill I was told to call for this morning?" "Yes," answered Mr. Brown, "you'd better go right away. We've had to wait long enough for that money. Frank, you take Theodore's place at the fountain." Miss Myrtle's face assumed a look of hauteur. She was not accustomed to being pushed aside, even for business. But she hastened to say, "Oh, I am so warm! I believe I'll have a cherry phosphate. I came away without my purse this morning, but please don't charge such a small amount to papa." Theodore prepared the phosphate and placed it before her. His eyes took on the steady, level expression that Miss Billy's habitually wore, but his voice was cool and bland as he said aloud, "Frank, please make a charge against Miss Myrtle Blanchard,--one phosphate, ten cents."