“It is a medal of honor made from a coin, and inscribed: ‘To Fluff C. Foster for having saved the life of Francis P. Bradford, January 2, 1894.’ That much I am entitled to give, regardless of what the dog’s master may think, and I only hope it may be in my power at some future time to bestow upon Benny a more substantial token of regard.” Mr. Bradford handed the collar and medal to the boy as he ceased speaking, and the latter gazed alternately at the gift and the dog, who was sitting bolt upright on his hind legs as if begging to be told the cause of this sudden commotion. “Well?” Sam Hardy said interrogatively as Benny remained silent. “Well, No. 8, ain’t there anything more to it? The dog is coaxin’ you to thank the gentleman.” “I know he is, Mr. Hardy; but how can I do it?” Benny replied with a long-drawn sigh of delight. “It’s splendid, though it ain’t none too good for a dog like Fluff, an’ I’d rather he’d have this than all the money in the world. Just to think!” and the lad turned to address the entire crew. “Fluff has got a regular life-saving medal.” “It’s a big thing,” Keeper Downey replied with a nod of satisfaction, “an’, what’s more, Fluff is the only one of this crew that has won such a distinction.” “If anything was needed, after the letter from the Superintendent, to show that he an’ I were members of the crew, this would be enough, wouldn’t it?” “It’s as good as a commission from the Treasury Department,” Joe Cushing replied gravely. “If you would like to make the change, I can buy you something, instead of spending so much money for the dog,” Mr. Bradford said, with a meaning glance at the men. “It will be an easy matter to exchange the collar and medal for cheaper metal, and give you the difference.” “Take this away from Fluff?” Benny cried in alarm. “Why, I wouldn’t have it done for the world! Now I’m a regular member of this crew I don’t need anything, an’ even if I did, he should have the best, because he’s the one who saved your life, an’ I’ll get a heap of pleasure out of looking at it.” “I have also sent out here ten pounds of sugar in lumps, so that you may remind him of me at least once every day,” Mr. Bradford said, apparently getting as much pleasure out of the presentation as did Benny, “and because of thus rewarding Fluff, I want you to do me a favor.” “What is it, sir?” Benny asked in surprise. “I want the privilege of giving you a full suit of clothes. Here is an order on a tailor, who will make whatever you may decide upon.” While speaking the gentleman had pressed into Benny’s hand a slip of paper, and before the lad could reply Sam Hardy cried in delight: