I guess some one will want him--a good healthy boy like that." "Did you find any money on the body ?" asked Streeter.
"A little change--a few cents.

Nothing to count.

If the boy's letter doesn't tell us where any of their folks are, it'll be up to the town to bury him all right." "He had a fiddle, didn't he?
And the boy had one, too.

Wouldn't they bring anything ?" Streeter's round blue eyes gleamed shrewdly.
Higgins gave a slow shake of his head.
"Maybe--if there was a market for 'em.

But who'd buy 'em?
There ain't a soul in town plays but Jack Gurnsey; and he's got one.