“Why don’t you put your bread and bologna in the nice box?” asked the boy.

“Of course,” said Elnora.  “I didn’t think.”

When the box was arranged to the children’s satisfaction all of them accompanied Elnora to the corner where she turned toward the high school.

“Billy,” said Elnora, “I would like you much better if you were cleaner.  Surely, you have water!  Can’t you children get some soap and wash yourselves?  Gentlemen are never dirty.  You want to be a gentleman, don’t you?”

“Is being clean all you have to do to be a gentleman?”

“No,” said Elnora.  “You must not say bad words, and you must be kind and polite to your sister.”

“Must Belle be kind and polite to me, else she ain’t a lady?”

“Yes.”

“Then Belle’s no lady!” said Billy succinctly.

Elnora could say nothing more just then, and she bade them good-bye and started them home.

“The poor little souls!” she mused.  “I think the Almighty put them in my way to show me real trouble.  I won’t be likely to spend much time pitying myself while I can see them.”  She glanced at the lunchbox.  “What on earth do I carry this for?  I never had anything that was so strictly ornamental!  One sure thing!  I can’t take this stuff to the high school.  You never seem to know exactly what is going to happen to you while you are there.”

As if to provide a way out of her difficulty a big dog arose from a lawn, and came toward the gate wagging his tail.  “If those children ate the stuff, it can’t possibly kill him!” thought Elnora, so she offered the bologna.  The dog accepted it graciously, and being a beast of pedigree he trotted around to a side porch and laid the bologna before his mistress.  The woman snatched it, screaming:  “Come, quick!  Some one is trying to poison Pedro!” Her daughter came running from the house.  “Go see who is on the street.  Hurry!” cried the excited mother.

Ellen Brownlee ran and looked.  Elnora was half a block away, and no one nearer.  Ellen called loudly, and Elnora stopped.  Ellen came running toward her.

“Did you see any one give our dog something?” she cried as she approached.

Elnora saw no escape.

“I gave it a piece of bologna myself,” she said.  “It was fit to eat.  It wouldn’t hurt the dog.”

Ellen stood and looked at her.  “Of course, I didn’t know it was your dog,” explained Elnora.  “I had something I wanted to throw to some dog, and that one looked big enough to manage it.”

Ellen had arrived at her conclusions.  “Pass over that lunch box,” she demanded.

“I will not!” said Elnora.

“Then I will have you arrested for trying to poison our dog,” laughed the girl as she took the box.

“One chunk of stale bread, one half mile of antique bologna contributed for dog feed; the remains of cake, salad and preserves in an otherwise empty lunch box.  One ham sandwich yesterday.  I think it’s lovely you have the box.  Who ate your lunch to-day?”