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Willis climbed upon the wharf again. He saw when the men who had been eating crabs came back to work. He noticed they did not work very heartily.

“My father doesn’t work that way,” thought the boy.

“An honest day’s work.” The words followed Willis as he went away from the wharf. The next week Willis was going to begin work for a large dry-goods store.

“I’ll do honest day’s work, too,” resolved Willis.

He did not put it into words, but he thought that the One who saw whether a man under the wharves did an honest day’s work would see whether a boy working for a store did the same. Willis was trying to be a Christian.

Busy days Willis had after that. The large dry-goods store had many customers who often did not wish to carry bundles home. The store had two pretty, white-covered, small carts for the delivering of packages. Willis drove one cart and a boy named August drove the other.

One afternoon Willis, out delivering dry-goods, drove by the house where August lived, and saw the store’s other cart standing there.

“August is home,” thought Willis. Just then, August came out.

“Don’t tell,” called August, laughing.

Willis, hardly comprehending, drove on about his business.

That evening at store-closing time, both boys were back with their receipt books, signed by customers who had received their packages. The boys went out of the store together.

“Saw me coming out of our house today, didn’t you?” said August to Willis.

“Don’t you ever stop off half an hour or so, when you’re on your rounds?”

“Why, no!” answered Willis. “What would they say at the store, if they knew?”

“They can’t know,” asserted August. “I often stop, that way. Yesterday I went to see my aunt. How can the store tell? They don’t know just how long it will take to deliver all the parcels. Some folks live farther off than others. Who’s going to know?”

Willis hesitated. He remembered that the thought of the men at the wharves had been: “Who would know?” Willis had never heard that anybody had lost his place at the wharves on account of dawdling. What if August never was found out? Was it right to steal an hour, or half an hour, of his employer’s time?

“No,” thought Willis. “I’m going to be honest.”

Late one afternoon August came into the store. Willis was later still, because he had had more parcels to deliver. Both boys’ receipt books showed the customers’ signatures.

“There was a big fire up-town,” said August secretly to Willis afterwards. “I stopped to see it before delivering my parcels. You just ought to have been there!”

“How long did you stay?” asked Willis, gravely.

“Oh, I don’t know!” returned August. “Three-quarters of an hour, maybe. I delivered my parcels all right afterwards.”

Willis did not tell anybody about August’s actions.

“I wish he wouldn’t tell me about them, either,” thought Willis, uncomfortably.

That week August was discharged.

“I happened to be at the fire myself, and saw you,” said one of the store’s proprietors to August. “The next time you stop to see a fire, you will not have a chance to keep one of our delivery carts waiting an hour while you waste your employer’s time watching the firemen. It didn’t look well to see our firm’s name on that white cart standing idle, just as if we hadn’t many customers.”

“And you were seen once,” added the other proprietor, “with one of our carts standing beside an open block, while a ball game was being played there last week.”

As Willis regretfully saw his companion turned away, there came back to him the scene in the semi-darkness under the wharf, when his father said, “A Christian ought to give an honest day’s work.” “And I will,” he muttered.