satisfied.

So Arch took lodgings in another part of the city, quite as poor a place,
but there no one had the right to grumble at him. Still, because she was
some relation to Mat, he gave Grandma Rugg full half of his money, but he
never remained inside her doors longer than necessity demanded.

In his new lodgings he became acquainted with a middle-aged man who
represented himself as a retired army officer. His name was John Sharp--a
sleek, keen-eyed, smooth-tongued individual, who never boasted or
blustered, but who gave people the idea that at some time he had been
a person of consequence. This man attached himself particularly to Arch
Trevlyn. With insidious cunning he wormed himself into the boy's
confidence, and gained, to a certain degree, his friendship. Arch did not
trust him entirely, though. There was something about him from which he
shrank--the touch of his white, jewelled hand made his flesh creep, like
the touch of a serpent.

But Mr. Sharp had an object to gain, and set himself resolutely to work
to carry his point. He made himself necessary to Arch. He bought him
books, and taught him in the evenings, when neither was engaged
otherwise. He had been well educated, and in Arch he had an apt scholar.
Every spare moment of the boy's life was absorbed in his books.

By-and-bye Sharp learned the whole history of the wrongs, inflicted on
Arch's parents by old Mr. Trevlyn. He snapped at the story as a dog
snaps at a bone. But he was, cautious and patient, and it was a long time
before he showed himself to Arch in his true character. And then, when he
did, the revelation had been made so much by degrees, that the boy was
hardly shocked to find that his friend was a house-breaker and a highway