In a drug store at Division Street and State Peewee got his dollar converted into small change. Experience had taught him that, if he proffered so large a coin to spend, it might prove too great a temptation to the seller and he might get nothing back, but a boy asking for change had the air of one merely doing an errand. He exchanged three of his pennies at the alley door of a lunchroom for as large a piece of stale bread as they would buy, and moved on, eating it. He was still speculating as to what she could have been told.
He turned west at Chicago Avenue and his step quickened with decision. At this hour of the day and in summer he was not likely to be molested by agents of justice or charity, so he had the freedom of the streets. He caught the tailboard of an express wagon traveling in his
