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THE INTERLOPER
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“Excuse me,” said the Scout Master, “I knew you were close to forty. I only said thirty for politeness.”

“I’m done with you now,” said Miss Worthington. “You may go home, but you’d better come around again in the morning and see if there’s anything you can do for me.”

“All right,” said the Scout Master. “I’ll be right here, and I’ll start home whenever you pay me for what I’ve done to-day. I’ve been flying pretty lively all afternoon and I’m getting hungry enough to eat up every hot dog on the corner stand!”

“I’ll pay you in the morning,” said Miss Worthington.

“I’ll take my pay now,” said the little Scout. “I happen to be out of change and I’m tellin’ you I’m hungry.”

Miss Worthington produced her pocketbook and, taking some small change from it, dropped it into the outstretched hand. The little Scout counted it twice.

“Say, you ain’t throwing your change to the birds, are you?”

But the inquiry was good-humoured. The Scout Master had decided to be on the job in the morning.

“What time do you want me?”

“Better make it about nine.”

“All right,” said the Scout Master, “maybe I can get here an hour sooner and wipe up the dust on the furniture or straighten things out for you, or clean your shoes. I often clean my mother’s shoes. I know how.”

“That’s fine,” said Miss Worthington, “come as soon as you want to.”

“I’ll be right here,” said the little Scout, “and for your