Mother's eyes are poor, and she likes to have the paper before dark." Miss Stratton caught her breath in the cold wind.

She hastened by a gas-lamp, climbed the hill, and found her way in darkness up the long steps of a house.

She fumbled for the bell and rang it.

There was a little stir within, the opening of an interior door to let light into the hall, and then a boy's step.

The front door opened.
Miss Stratton looked straight into the boyish face that appeared.
"I want to know where you threw our paper to-night," she demanded.
"I can't find it anywhere." The boy stepped one side so that the light within the farther room might fall on Miss Stratton's face.