"My dear David," he said, "it was all selfishness on my part. I knew I
should enjoy myself much better with a companion."

"You may call that selfishness, Rodney, but it is a kind of selfishness
that makes me your devoted friend. How long do you think you shall
remain at school?"

"I don't know. My guardian has never told me his plans for me. I wish he
would."

"I shall miss you, Rodney, but we will correspond, won't we?"

"Surely. You know I shall always feel interested in you and your
welfare."

David was a plain boy of humble parentage, and would probably be a hard
working mechanic. In fact he was looking for nothing better.

But Rodney Ropes looked to be of genteel blood, and had the air of
one who had been brought up a gentleman. But different as they were in
social position the two boys had always been devoted friends.

The boarding school of which Rodney was, as his friend expressed
himself, a star pupil, was situated about fifty miles from the city of
New York. It was under the charge of Dr. Sampson, a tall, thin man
of fair scholarship, keenly alive to his own interest, who showed
partiality for his richer pupils, and whenever he had occasion to
censure bore most heavily upon boys like David Hull, who was poor.

Rodney occupied alone the finest room in the school. There was a great