Flesh and blood could not resist him. Hastily tugging out from her petticoat a bulging pocket-book, she deposited a dime in the basket; the aunt, with extraordinary accuracy, dropped a five-cent piece from the window; Katy mourned her distance from her own financial center, and Caroline ran for her bank. It was a practical mechanism, the top falling off at her onslaught with the ease of frequent exercise, and she returned in time to slip six pennies under the two hot cookies that Maggie had added to her first contribution. At each tribute the terrier barked twice politely, and only when there was no more to be hoped for did he trot off around the corner of the house, the cookies swaying at a perilous angle under his quivering nostrils. A moment later a tall young man stepped across the grass and lifted a worn polo-cap from a reddish-yellow head. "Much obliged, all," he said, with an awkward little bow. "Good day!" He turned, whistled to the terrier, and was going on, when he caught the heartfelt admiration of Caroline's glance. "Want to pat him?" he inquired. She nodded and approached them. "Shake hands with the lady, William Thayer, and tell her how d'you do," he commanded, as she knelt beside the wonderful creature. The terrier offered a cool, tremulous paw, and barked with cheerful interrogation as she shook it rapturously. "Those were fine cookies," said the young man. "I had 'em for breakfast. I'm going to buy a bone for William Thayer, and then he'll have some, too." "Was that _all_ you had?" she inquired, horror-stricken. He nodded. "But I'll make it up on dinner," he added lightly. Caroline sprang to her feet. "You go over there behind that barn and wait a minute," she commanded. The young man--he was only a boy--blushed under his tan and bit his lip. "I didn't mean--I'll get along all right; you needn't bother," he muttered, conscious of Katy's suspicious eye. "Oh, do! Please do!" she entreated. "I'll be out there in just a minute; hurry up, before Maggie gets through those cookies!" He turned toward the barn, and Caroline ran back to the house. "Is that man gone? What are you doing, Caroline?" called the invisible voice. "Yes, he's gone. I was patting the dog," she answered boldly, stepping through the dining-room into the pantry and glancing hastily about. Only a plate of rolls was in sight; the place was ostentatiously clean and orderly. She sighed and pushed through the swinging door; the refrigerator was a more delicate affair. But Maggie's broad back was bent over her ovenful, and Caroline clicked the door-knob unchallenged.