the fin is compressed the fish may be handled easily, but when the fin is spread woe betide the hand that grasps it carelessly. Every one of those sixty dorsal fins was spread and there was no time to be particular as to how a fish was grabbed. So with many a half-smothered grunt and more emphatic exclamation the boys clutched at the flapping forms and tossed them back into the car, and when the last one was in caught it up and raced for the pond.

When it was safely in the water and they had satisfied themselves that they hadn't lost a fish they took account of stock. Both had lacerated hands and in addition one of Runt's shins was minus considerable skin and one big toe was badly bruised.

"Easiest money I ever earned," murmured Slim to no one in particular. Then the funny side of it striking them, they laughed uproariously and prepared to tow the fish down to the other end of the pond.

Early the next morning fifty fish were delivered in good condition, only ten dying on the way. With the fish standing it better, the boys could rest oftener. Then, too, it was fairly cool. To be sure their backs and arms ached and their hands showed one or two more blisters, but it was no such torture as on the day before and they went back to the day's fishing in good spirits. In the evening of the fifth day the last of the fish called for in the contract were delivered. To be

exact 303 fish in perfect condition had been liberated in the lily ponds. When they went to collect their money Mr. Chapman handed Slim two crisp five-dollar bills.

"This is more than the contract called for and we haven't any change," stammered Slim.

The old twinkle crept back into Mr. Chapman's eyes.

"The extra dollar is from my cats,' said he. "They've had the greatest feast of their lives this week. Besides I guess you've earned it. The next time you make a contract watch out that you don't forfeit your proper pay for work done in case you cannot complete the contract. I congratulate you that you didn't forfeit this time. When I want some more perch I'll know who to go to."

"Phew! I'm glad it's over," said Slim as they trundled the tubs homeward. "I guess we won't be proud of those uniforms when we get them! What?"

"You bet we will!" declared Runt, and then added: "But do you know, Slim, I have a hunch that the thing we are going to be most proud of is the fact that we didn't quit. I guess it was a sort of unofficial test. It showed that we've got the stuff that real Scouts are made of, and we did it without any Scoutmaster to know whether we won or failed. It isn't the easiest money I ever earned, by a jugful, but I think it's the best."

"Me, too," replied Slim.

L...

OU have answered the "ad." You have landed the job.

How bewildering is the office. Rows of desks, with many officers and clerks, clicking typewriters, tinkling telephone bells, the coming of visitors, of the mail carriers with their burdens of letters, of messengers with telegrams and packages; then a quick call for you the new boy-for some quick service.

Here's your chance! "play" in this big game (of business. There are several ways you can muff it. There is one way you can make it.

How? By responding quickly, noiselessly, being respectful, listening hard (so you may understand perfectly what the order is), and then carrying out that order quickly and correctly. It may be merely to take a letter or a simple memorandum on a bit of paper to someone else in the room, or in another

It's your first

men.

room: Get it there without delayand be sure not to leave it at the wrong desk or in the wrong room.

There may be no apparent apprecitation of your honest effort. There may even be a complaint because you were not quicker. In the hustle and bustle of business your employer has no time to think of your difficulties.

"If I don't like this job I can get another," you say. The boy who says that, or even thinks it, has made his first big business mistake.

Why? Because men are needed. as well as boys-and boys will be To you it may seem a long time until you will be twenty-one. To the middle-aged, successful business man, it seems a very short time. He has seen many boys grow from short pants to long trousers and from long trousers to moustaches.

Flunkers Likely to Flunk

He knows the marks of a winner. He

has his eyes on you. He is watching

closely to see what kind of a man you are going to be.

He considers your past-what kind of a boy you have been. Did you leave grammar school before graduation? If you did, for any reason except the absolute necessity of earning or helping to earn a living, he will be doubtful about you. A boy who does not know the value of education is of little use in business.

Did you go to high school? If not, why? If you have not studied languages, sciences, arts, you will not understand what he is talking about half the time and he will not dare to give you any very important work to do.

Have you a college education? You will have to start at a boy's wages just the same, and do a boy's work, but your promotions will come earlier and oftener.

Fun to Surprise the Boss

Whatever your schooling may have been, he is watching your disposition. Once in a while he comes in at seven-thirty in the morning. He finds you on the job.

"Hello! Thought you were not due until eight!" An agreeable surprise, you see. "No, sir, but I wanted to get the desks dusted before the men came." "That has been the first upward step in many a successful career. A boy who is interested, even in the common round of his simple duties, makes a man who can be trusted in an important position where there are many details to be watched.

Mr. Charles M. Schwab played hide and seek with a water boy in one of the Bethlehem Steel Corporation's plants for a while. He wanted to catch him napping, but he couldn't.

He made him a clerk and continued to keep an eye on him. No matter what hour Mr. Schwab passed through the plant,

his clerk was there-busy, and getting results.

Who got the job when they wanted an assistant superintendent? Naturally, the fellow who wasn't afraid of work. Now he is at the head of a great steel company. His name is Alva C. Dinkey.

How You Can Prove Yourself

You can be a boy for only a few years. By the time you are twenty-five, your reputation will be made for better or worse.

The hardest thing in the world is to convince hard-headed business people that a boy who has been shiftless, careless, inefficient, is worth considering for a man-sized job.

The next hardest thing is to convince them that a boy who has been industrious and cheerful and progressive is not going to succeed when he has more important things to do.

"Rather young," says one, "but he's a dependable boy."

"Helped me out the other night by doing an errand on the way home," says another.

"Always good natured, and always finds something to do; and not afraid to ask for advice if he really needs it," says another.

The Boy and the Man's Job

The first thing you know, you, who have just been doing everything that came your way as well as you knew how, learning everything you could, and not worrying about hours or wages, are called in on the carpet and asked: "Do you think you could handle Mr. Jones's desk?"

You color up and get a little confused and excited, but after looking at the friendly faces around you, and the boss looking at you, sort of proud and indulgent, you suddenly realize that you are no longer a boy. You are ready for a man's job and a man's responsibilities.

Right there is where you begin to reap the reward of being a good-for-something boy. The older you grow the more reward you get.

Some fellows kick. "I never had a chance," they whine. Don't you believe it!

When you stop to think of it, a boy's job is just as important as anything in the business, anyhow.

Suppose Mrs. Smith is the biggest customer in town. She has company and wants a dozen of the best eggs. The other store, where she has always traded, sent her some and a careless deliveryman dropped the box, but left it and said nothing.

She tells her trouble to your boss by 'phone, and he sends you up on your bicycle with a dozen fancy white. Mrs. Smith meets you and says: "Oh, I forgot. I wanted a nutmeg, too."

Instead of saying, "Well, why didn't you order it so I could bring it up with the eggs!" you hustle back and deliver the nutmeg just as she wants it to put the finishing touch on the pudding.

Naturally, Mrs. Smith begins to buy all her groceries at the store where they have "that very polite boy."

You have captured the heaviest customer in town. Could the proprietor do any better?

Being a boy is the biggest job in the world.

You can't have a straight tree, without a straight sapling; you can't have a straight man without a boy who decides to go straight from the moment when he first becomes conscious of the fact that he will be a man some day.

THE

HE referee's whistle blew shrilly. "Foul on Glenwood," the official called sharply. "Holding!" Tom Allen's black eyes flashed angrily. "I wasn't holding," he protested, "just trying to block the throw."

"Are you the captain?"

"No!"

"Double foul on Glenwood."

Without a word, the stocky guard of the Glenwood School took his place under the basket. The Highland center walked leisurely to the white foul line and held the ball rigidly before him. The gallery of the big gymnasium grew quiet -then suddenly a shrill cheer burst from the Highland rooters. Another point had been added to their total; the score now

stood, Glenwood 33, Highland 32.

Again the visiting center eyed the basket

reflectively, twirling the ball carelessly with his fingers. Suddenly his body grew tense; the crowd resumed its attitude of expectant silence. The ball, turning easily, struck the iron hoop, balanced indecisively, and fell in.

Pandemonium broke loose; the score was tied and there was only two minutes to play.

Captain Ned Bartlett slapped Tom Allen on the shoulder.

"Go easy on the holding," he cautioned. "The referee is watching you."

Tom's eyes gleamed resentfully. "I wasn't holding," he protested. "Anyone could see that."

The players glided to their places, eager, alert. From the north gallery rang the booming Glenwood cheer. Jennings, the Highland center, tapped the ball lightly to a waiting guard, who had shifted to one side. Tom, rushing forward, snatched it from the other's hands and started to dribble it down the floor. The whistle blew.

"Held ball!" the referee called.

They jumped, and the opposing player, taller than Tom, knocked the ball sharply toward the basket. It struck the hoop and bounded back into Tom's arms. His opponent leaped at him, but Tom shot it to