Boston to interest such a scapegrace as I am?"

Looking up, Billy saw before him Henry Lincoln, exquisitely dressed,
but bearing in his appearance evident marks of dissipation.

"Why, Henry," exclaimed George, "how came you here? I supposed you
were drawing lampblack caricatures of some one of the tutors in old
Yale. What's the matter? What have you been doing?"

"Why you see," answered Henry, drawing his cigar from his mouth and
squirting, by accident of course, a quantity of spittle over Billy's
nicely blacked shoes; "Why you see one of the sophs got his arm broken
in a row, and as I am so tender-hearted and couldn't bear to hear him
groan, to say nothing of his swearing, the faculty kindly advised me
to leave, and sent on before me a recommendation to the old man. But,
egad I fixed 'em. I told 'em he was in Boston, whereas he's in
Chicopee, so I just took the letter from the office myself. It reads
beautifully. Do you understand?"

All this time, in spite of the tobacco juice, Henry had apparently
taken no notice of Billy, whom George now introduced, saying, he
believed they were old acquaintances. With the coolest effrontery
Henry took from his pocket a quizzing glass and applying it to his
eye, said, "I've absolutely studied until I'm near-sighted, but I
don't think I ever met this chap before."

"Perhaps, sir," said Billy haughtily, "it may refresh your memory a
little to know that I was once the owner of Tasso!"

"Blast the brute," muttered Henry, meaning Billy quite as much as the