“What about supper, father?” inquired Ben.

“Oh, I’ll pick up something at a restaurant.”

“Mother will insist on sending something to you, I know,” prophesied Ben.

“Well, I won’t say that home cooking wouldn’t suit me best,” confessed Mr. Hardy.

Ben started from the shop, when Caleb Dunn hailed him with the words:

“Hold on there, young man.”

“All right,” responded Ben, smiling.

The foreman gained Ben’s side. He drew a shop-soiled sheet of paper from the pocket of his working blouse.

“Every man in the shop,” he announced.

“Every man what?” queried Ben.

“Name signed to the document.”

“What for?”

“Subscription.”

“Oh!” said Ben, guessing and flushing.

“Understand, do you?” demanded the iron fisted, warm hearted foreman with a grim chuckle. “Testimonial—Watch—Open face—Solid gold—Get out.”

He gave Ben a shove and shook his fist playfully at him, and the boy went on his way laughing and feeling joyful.

Ben had to tell the story of the day’s experience all over again when he reached home. His mother[Pg 27] said little, as between the lines she read the noble impulses that had actuated the good son of a good father in striving to do his duty and be of benefit to others. She kissed him fondly, however, and her eyes were moist and loving as after supper he started for the works with the basket of food she had prepared for Mr. Hardy.

[Pg 27]

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