Under the guidance of the lank boy, named Wilkins, Hector left Mr.
Smith's office, and walked to a barren-looking plot of ground behind
the house, which served as a playground for the pupils of Smith
Institute.

Wilkins scanned the new arrival closely.

"I say, Roscoe," he commenced, "what made you come here?"

"Why do boys generally come to school?" returned Hector.

"Because they have to, I suppose," answered Wilkins.

"I thought they came to study."

"Oh, you're one of that sort, are you?" asked Wilkins, curiously.

"I hope to learn something here."

"You'll get over that soon," answered Wilkins, in the tone of one
who could boast of a large experience.

"I hope not. I shall want to leave school if I find I can't learn
here."

"Who is it that brought you here--your father?"

"No, indeed!" answered Hector, quickly, for he had no desire to be
considered the son of Allan Roscoe.