“You just about knocked the breath out of me,” said the man in a more natural voice and one which Jerry now recognized as belonging to Harry Barton, the clerk at the corner drug store.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barton.  If I’d of seen you—­”

“You wouldn’t have run into me,” finished Mr. Barton.  “Of course not.  There are a lot of things we wouldn’t do if we could see what the results were going to be.  Why, bless me, it’s Jerry Elbow!  Well, I guess there wasn’t much harm done this time.  You seemed to be in quite a hurry.  Have I delayed you?”

“Yes, sir, I was in a hurry,” Jerry answered.  “Danny was running to ask Mother ’Larkey for fifty cents to see the circus.”

“And what were you running for?”

Jerry started to get up as he replied.

“To see if she had fifty cents for Da—­”

He stopped speaking and stopped getting up at the same time.  A glint of silver on the sidewalk back of Mr. Barton caught his eye.  It was a half-dollar!  Jerry sank to a sitting posture and gazed in rapt wonder at this answer to an unsaid prayer.

“You are hurt!” cried Mr. Barton solicitously and stooped to help Jerry up.  “Where does it pain you?”

“It’s fifty cents!” cried Jerry, his lips unsealed at last, and he scrambled eagerly for the coin.

“Well, there’s nothing very painful in that, is there?” laughed Mr. Barton.

Jerry rose, clutching the dirty half-dollar tightly, a light of joyful anticipation in his eyes.

“There’s not much need of asking what you will spend it for,” observed the drug clerk.

“For a ticket to the circus!” cried Jerry, his eyes sparkling at the thought of future delights.

“I guessed it the first time,” said Mr. Barton.  “I thought I heard something metallic fall on the sidewalk when you ran into me, but I had such hard work getting my breath back that I forgot all about it.”

Such a harrowing thought now popped into Jerry’s mind that unconsciously he closed his fingers entirely around the precious half-dollar.  What if it were Mr. Barton’s!  Perhaps he had knocked it out of Mr. Barton’s pocket when he ran into him.  He had heard the clink of its fall just after the collision, as he lay on the ground.

After a short but sharp struggle with himself, Jerry looked up and held out the money to Mr. Barton.  He tried to smile, but was conscious that the twisting of his lips didn’t look much like a smile.

“It’s yours, I guess, Mr. Barton.”

“Mine!” exclaimed the surprised drug clerk.  “You saw it first.”

“Yes, but I heard it fall just after I ran into you.  I must of knocked it out of your pocket.  I didn’t have no half-dollar.”

“No more did I,” replied Mr. Barton.

“You didn’t!” exclaimed Jerry, and joy came unbidden back into his eyes and there was a very different feel to his lips.  He knew that it was a real smile this time.