Chris made up his mind to see what might be in the Pep Boys' store, far down the hill and along traffic-filled M Street. Somehow the tawdry bustle of this street, with its many shops, appealed to the boy who carried misery inside him like a cold, heavy stone. Running, he started down the hill between the lines of old brick houses, left Rock Creek Park behind him, and turning to the right up M Street, reached the hardware glitter of The Pep Boys'. And it was there, as he stood staring in at the chromium bicycle lamps, red glass tail lights, and wire baskets, that Mike Dugan found him. CHAPTER 2 Mike was in his class at public school, the eighth grade. Mike was all right. Chris liked him. "Hya, Chris!" "Hi, Mike!" "Whatcha doin'?" "Nothin' much. Just looking." "Say--you know sumthin'?" Mike wiggled himself across part of the Pep Boys' window to gain Chris's attention. "Old Wicker's got a sign in his window--he needs a boy. For after school, I guess. Think he'd pay, huh? Whyncha try?" Chris looked from a nickel-plated flashlight to a car jack and spark plug. "Oh--I don't know." Mike persisted. "Well, I'll tell you what. Know who needs a job bad? That's Jakey Harris. His mother's sick, and he's got that bad foot. Whyncha ask for him, huh? You sit next to him at school." All Chris heard was "--needs a job bad--mother's sick." "O.K.," he said. "Only why didn't you ask him yourself?" Mike became uneasy and fished an elastic band out of his pocket, made a flick of paper and sent it soaring out into M Street. "Well--" he admitted, "I did. Wicker's such a queer old guy. That ol' antique shop is dark an' spooky, an'--Well, I went in, and there wasn't nobody there, on'y him and me." Mike stopped, and after a pause Chris said, "So what?" [Illustration] "So--" Mike swallowed. "So I said I was there about the job, an' do you know what he said? He said"--he went on without urging, but with a frown of perplexity ridging his forehead--"He said, 'Turn around and look out that window, son, and tell me what you see.'" Mike stopped and looked at Chris with a comical expression. "Everybody knows what's outside his window!" he burst out. "Of all the silly things! But I turned around and looked, like he told me to, and of course there was the traffic goin' by, and trucks, and cabs, and people crossin' the street, and the freeway overhead, an'--_you_ know." "So what did he say?" Chris asked, and for the first time that day the heavy weight he carried within him lifted and lightened a little. Mike examined the toe of his worn shoe. "Oh, he just smiled, that funny little crackly smile, and said, 'I'm sorry, young man, you won't do.'" [Illustration] For a moment both boys stared into one another's eyes, each questioning, wondering, and neither being able to supply the answer. At last, Chris broke the silence. "Queerest thing I ever heard. Gee! Whaddaya suppose?"