all of his swagger Bloodgood is a fellow who would scorn to wear paste
diamonds."

"What do you make out of the fellow, anyway?" asked Bruce.

"I'm not able to size him up yet," admitted Frank. "I'm not certain
whether he came of a good family or a bad one, but I'm inclined to fancy
it was the former."

"I'd like to know why you think so?" from Jack. "He did not show very
good breeding."

"But there is a certain something about his face that makes me believe
he comes from a high-grade family. I think he has become lowered by
associating with bad companions."

"Well, I don't care who or what he is," declared Jack; "if he gets fresh
around me again, I'll crack him one for luck. I can't stand him for a
cent!"

"Better turn him over to me," murmured Bruce, dozily. "I'll sit on him."

"And he'll think he's under an elephant," laughed Merry. "Bruce cooked
M. Montfort, and I reckon he'd have less trouble to cook Mr. Bloodgood."

At this moment there was a hesitating, uncertain knock on the door.

"Another visitor, I wonder?" muttered Frank.