"But how, what at?" inquired Mrs. Ismond doubtfully.
"I don't know yet, I will before another sun rises, though," asserted Frank, staunchly. "That is, if good hard thinking can suggest the right way to go about it."
Frank took up his cap and walked from the house. He paused to place a silver fifty cent piece on the kitchen dresser. He had earned it before breakfast, cutting a lawn and trimming hedges up at Judge Bascom's place.
Frank had been doing such odd jobs about town for the past four months. He was courteous, accomodating and energetic. Everybody he worked for liked him, and he never shirked an honest task.
He made out fairly well as a general utility boy about the village. The worst of it was, however, that his good luck came in streaks. One very busy week Frank made over ten dollars. Then the next week all he could get to do was chopping wood at fifty cents a day.
"There is something better in me than that," Frank resolved. "I've got the problem to solve what it is, and I feel that it is up to me to figure it out right now."
Frank's face clouded slightly as he crossed the
