“Don’t want none of your old candy,” sulkily replied the other. “I wouldn’t eat it fer nothing, and I’ll get even with you, Mr. Tom, for knuckling my pate.” “Come on now and get even,” exclaimed Tom; “you ain’t the only plug in the world.” But George did not seem anxious to get even, and he sent a stone flying after Annie Benson and Tom Cooper. “George can be so mean when he wants to be,” sighed the girl. “So he can. Now, why didn’t he come to the store after the fight? He had no right to call you stingy.” “No, for I always give him half of what I have, after he spends his allowance that father gives him.” They were silent for a few moments, and then the girl continued: “I sometimes think that George is jealous of you and me, and he ought not to be, for father does as much for him as for any one else, and I am papa’s own child.” “Of course you are, Annie, while I am only a little boy Mr. Benson was so good to. Never mind, when I get big I’m going to marry you.” “Oh, you can’t, Tom,” replied Annie, “for I am four years older than you are. You would not want to have your wife boss you, would you, Tom, and I would have to if I was older than you.” “Oh, not always. I read in a book once,” proceeded Tom earnestly, “about a man and a woman, and she was ten years older than her husband, and they were very happy.” “Were they, really? I never heard of such a thing. I thought the husbands had to be at least twenty years older than the wife.” “Pshaw, no, and I’m going to have you for my wife.” Again there was silence. The girl was about twelve, while the boy, although large for his age, was but eight. “George said he was going to marry me,” said Annie after a while. “He said that my father was very rich and that he being my cousin ought to have the right to look after my money.” “George ain’t good enough for you, Annie,” hesitated Tom. “If you won’t tell I’ll tell you something.” “I promise, and cross my heart,” replied Annie. “I saw Tom take money from your father’s safe.” “Oh, Tom, you really didn’t?” “I really did,” answered the boy, hanging his head. “How could George be so wicked when papa is so good to him. Why, he has had no father or mother for many years. He and I are the same age. My father and his are brothers.” The girl’s mouth drooped at the corners and her little face worked painfully, for as much as she scolded her big cousin she loved him. She never had had a brother, and now to find this young lad whom she had taken into her heart like one should be found wanting was hard to bear. “You are sure, Tommy dear?” asked she plaintively. “More than sure, for he offered me five dollars and I wouldn’t take it.” “Good for you, Tom,” replied the girl, “and for that I’ll marry you when you get to be a man. You are a good fellow, Tommy.” Annie Benson was the only child of her father, her mother having died long ago.