"I don't believe two voices can be so much alike," he said to himself. "I must look more carefully."

The voice was heard again, and this time Sam perceived that the speaker was playing billiards on the second table to the right. But it did not appear to be Abner. His personal appearance was very different, and he had a black mustache. But when Sam scanned the upper part of the face, he saw a strong resemblance. He suspected the truth at once, Abner was disguised.

"He's spending my money," said Sam to himself, indignantly. "No wonder he can afford to play billiards when he gets his money so easy. I won't lose sight of him."

By this time Abner—for it was he—had finished his game, and laid down his cue. He had no money to pay, for he had beaten his adversary. He sauntered up to the door, and was about to pass Sam, whom he had not noticed, when our hero laid his hand upon his arm.

"I want to speak to you, Mr. Blodgett," he said, "on very particular business."

Abner started when he recognized Sam, and changed color slightly, but immediately his disguise occurred to him, and he decided to brazen it out.

"Excuse me, sir," he answered, coolly. "Did you address me?"

He changed his voice as well as he could in uttering these words, and this confirmed Sam's previous suspicion.

"I said I should like to speak to you on business, Mr. Blodgett," Sam repeated, in an emphatic tone.

"You have made a mistake in the person," said Abner, shrugging his shoulders. "My name is not Blodgett."

"And I suppose your first name is not Abner?" said Sam.

"Certainly not."

"Well, all I can say is, you have changed your name within two days."

"Come out into the street, and I will talk to you," said Abner, not wishing the conversation to be heard.

Sam followed him upstairs, and they went into School Street together.

"What did you say my name was?" asked Abner, with an air of amusement.

"Abner Blodgett."

"Ha, ha! that's a capital joke—the best I've heard lately."

"You told me you were from the country," Sam continued.

"Really, I should think you must be from the country yourself, to make such a mistake."

"I am from the city of New York, if you call that the country," said Sam, in rather an important tone.

"I am sorry for you, but you've made a great mistake about me, my dear young friend. My name is John Warburton, and I am a student of Harvard College, in Cambridge. I only just came into Boston this morning. I haven't been here before for a week."

He spoke so volubly and confidently that Sam was staggered for a minute. Was it possible that he was mistaken, after all? Was this really a Harvard student, whose voice happened to resemble that of Abner Blodgett? Abner saw that he was mystified, and a gleam of exultation appeared in his face. When Sam detected this, he felt sure that he had got the right man, after all. Abner even ventured to ask: "Why do you wish to see this Abner Blodgett, whom I have the honor of resembling?"

"Because," said Sam, bluntly, "he stole my money."

"Stole your money!" repeated Abner, with mock indignation. "Do you dare to take me for a thief—me, a Harvard student, belonging to one of the first families! Why, it is an insult and an outrage! I have a great mind to chastise you."

"I don't know whether you belong to one of the first or one of the second families," answered Sam, unterrified; "and I don't believe you are a Harvard student at all. Just give me back them ten dollars you stole out of my pocket or I'll make it hot for you."

"You young scamp!" said Abner, now really angry; "you've insulted me long enough. Now, clear out, or I'll kick you!"

"Kick away," said Sam; "but first give me my money."

"This is an outrage," said Abner, who noticed the approach of a policeman; "but if you are really in want I'll give you fifty cents, though you don't deserve it."

"I don't want your fifty cents, I want the money you stole from me," persisted Sam, who was not to be bought so cheap.

"For Heaven's sake, hush!" said Abner, nervously. "One of the professors is inside, and I am afraid he'll come out and hear you. Here's the fifty cents."

"That won't go down, Mr. Blodgett," said Sam. "How much of my money have you got left?"

By this time the policeman was within hearing distance. Sam saw him now, and determined to press his claim vigorously.

"I'll complain to that policeman," he said, "if you don't give up my money."

"Hush!" said Abner. "Wait till he goes by, and we'll arrange it."

"No, we won't," said Sam, stoutly. "Do you want me to call him?"

The policeman was now passing them. He glanced casually at the pair, rather to the discomfort of Abner, whose face was not wholly unknown to the force.

"What do you say?" demanded Sam, in a significant tone.

"I'll lend you five dollars," said Abner, desperately. "It's all I've got now."

"Hand it over, then," said Sam, who had not expected to get back so much of the stolen property.

Abner drew out a bill from his pocket, and passed it over.

"Is that all you've got left, Mr. Blodgett?" asked Sam.

"Don't call me Blodgett. It isn't my name. I told you my name was John Wharton, of Harvard College."

"You said Warburton five minutes since," said Sam, dryly.

"You didn't understand me," said Abner, rather embarrassed. "The names sound alike."

"I don't believe any of the names belong to you. Now, when are you going to pay the rest of that money?"

"I told you I knew nothing of your money," said Abner.

"Then why did you give me that five dollars back?"

"Out of charity."

"Then I wish you'd give me a little more out of charity."

"I have only enough to get me back to Cambridge."

"By the way, Mr. Blodgett," said Sam, slyly, "what do you use to make your mustache grow so quick?"

"Nothing at all. What makes you ask?"

"When I saw you two days ago you had none. It's grown pretty well for so short a time."

"I can't stop talking with you any longer. I must go out to Cambridge. I have a recitation in Latin in two hours."

"May I go out with you? I would like to see the college."

"Can't see it to-day," said Abner. "It isn't open to the public on Saturday."

"That's strange. I can go to Cambridge, can't I?"

"If you want to; but there isn't anything to see except the college."

"He don't want me to find him out," thought Sam. "I'm bound to go if he goes."

"I guess I'll go," he said, quietly. "Come along."

Abner unwillingly started with his unwelcome companion, and walked slowly to Bowdoin Square.

"There's the cars," he said, "just in front of the Revere House. Jump in, and I'll be with you in a minute."

As he said this he dodged round a corner and Sam found himself alone.

"Just as I expected," thought he. "That fellow isn't a Harvard student any more than I am. I'm lucky to get back part of my money. Perhaps I'll get the rest out of him some time."

He got into the car which had been pointed out to him and inquired of the driver: "Does this car go to Harvard College?"

"It is a Mount Auburn car, but you can get out at Harvard Square."

"I guess it's all right," said Sam to himself. "I might as well go out and see Harvard, as I've got nothing else to do."



CHAPTER XXVII.

SAM IS INITIATED INTO A COLLEGE SOCIETY.

Before Sam reached Harvard Square he caught sight of the college yard and the numerous buildings of brick and stone which had been erected within it for the accommodations of the students.

"It's a pretty big place," thought Sam. His ideas of a college were very vague. He had fancied that it consisted of one large brick building, like the New York public schools.

"I wonder what they want of so many buildings, anyway?" said Sam to himself. "There must be a lot of students."

He got out at Harvard Square, and crossing the street entered the college yard, or campus, as it is sometimes more ambitiously called. There were very few students about, for it was Saturday, when there was a morning exercise only, and, the rest of the day being a holiday, many of the students were accustomed to go to Boston, or to visit their friends elsewhere. Sam knew nothing of this, and was surprised to see so few young men about.

Now it happened that three sophomores, having nothing more important to occupy their attention, had made up their minds, by way of a lark, to play a trick on some freshman, who, from inexperience, looked like an easy victim. For convenience's sake I will call them Brown, Jones and Robinson.

As these three young men were walking arm-in-arm in front of University Hall, they saw Sam approaching. Of course, where the classes are so large, it is impossible for all to be personally acquainted, which accounts for their instantly mistaking Sam for a freshman.

"There's a fresh," said Brown. "He looks green enough for our purpose. Suppose we take him?"

"All right," said Jones. "He'll do."

Sam was rather surprised when the three college boys stopped and Brown addressed him.

"What is your name, sir?"

"Barker," answered Sam.

"All right!" said Robinson, in a low voice. "There's a Barker in the freshman class. I've noticed his name in the catalogue."

"I believe, Mr. Barker," said Brown, "that you belong to the freshman class."

"That's a good joke," said Sam to himself. "I'll see it through."

He was not a little flattered at being mistaken for a collegian, and nodded assent.

"We have heard of you, Mr. Barker," said Jones, in the most favorable manner. "We belong to the senior class, and at our last meeting we elected you unanimously a member of the Alpha Zeta Society."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Sam, really astonished.

"We have inquired of the faculty concerning your scholarship, and have been told that you are one of the best scholars in the class."

"If that's so," thought Sam, "the class don't know much."

"There are plenty that know more than me," said Sam, aloud.

"All your modesty, Mr. Barker," said Robinson. "We are convinced that you are a first-class man, and will be an acquisition to our society."

"What does it all mean?" Sam began to wonder.

"We are a committee of the society appointed to initiate you by the usual impressive ceremonies," said Brown. "It is very fortunate we have met with you, for Saturday is our day for initiations."

"Is it?"

"Yes; have you any particular engagement for the next hour?"

"Not as I know of."

"Then we will at once proceed to the society room and take you to the initiation. Are you ready?"

"I haven't made my will yet," said Sam, humorously.

The three sophomores looked at each other doubtfully. Perhaps their intended butt was not as verdant as they supposed.

"That formality is not necessary," said Jones, after a pause, "unless you desire to leave any money to the society."

"I guess I'll join first, and see how I like it," said Sam.

"Quite reasonable," said Brown, in a tone of satisfaction.

"We'd better not lose any time," said Robinson.

"Follow us, Mr. Barker," said Brown.

"All right, gentlemen."

Robinson offered his arm, and the four proceeded to one of the older college halls, and ascended to a room on the third floor.

"Ain't they sold, though!" thought Sam, with an inward chuckle. "They think I'm a student, and I'll find out all about their society—I can't think of the outlandish name."

The door was locked, and then Brown said: "Mr. Barker, you will not object to be blindfolded, of course."

"Go ahead," said Sam. "If that's the regular thing, I'm agreeable."

He was blindfolded by Brown and seated in the center of the room. He heard various movements, lasting for perhaps five minutes. Then the bandage was removed, and Sam saw that his three companions were metamorphosed. All wore masks. The light of day had been shut out, and four candles were burning on the table. In the center was a skull, and beside it was a large book, a photograph book, by the way.

"Barker," said one of the masked figures in a sepulchral voice, "do you desire to join our mystic band?"

"You bet!" answered Sam.

"No levity," was the stern reply. "Before you are admitted you must swear solemnly not to divulge the secrets of the association."

"I won't," said Sam.

"'Tis not enough. You must swear!"

"All right, I swear."

"Kiss this book, and swear with uplifted hand."

Sam did so.

"Do you know what will be the penalty if you violate the oath?"

"I'll be 'bounced,' I expect."

"Worse than that. Do you see this skull?"

"Yes, I do."

"It is the skull of a freshman who joined our society five years since, and divulged the secrets."

"What did he die of?" asked Sam.

"He disappeared," said Brown, impressively. "He was found dead in his bed one morning, with a dagger in his heart."

"You don't say so!" said Sam, impressed in spite of himself.

"It was a fitting punishment. Don't incur it."

"I won't," said Sam. "I don't know anything to tell anyway."

"You shall know all. Our society was founded hundreds of years ago by the emperor Charlemagne."

This didn't impress Sam as much as was expected, since he had never heard of the Emperor Charlemagne.

"Kings, nobles, prime ministers have belonged to our mystic ranks," proceeded Brown.

"Then I wonder they elected me in?" thought Sam.

"That book," indicating the photograph album, "contains the records of the society."

"May I look into it?"

"No," said Jones, hurriedly, laying his hand upon the book. "The time may come, but not yet."

"Just as you say," said Sam, submissively. "I'm in no hurry."

"Bandage his eyes once more," said Brown.

Robinson advanced, and tied a handkerchief over our hero's eyes.

"Now stand up."

Sam stood up.

Brown proceeded to read a chorus from Euripides, which impressed Sam as much as anything yet, for the Greek seemed but a strange and barbarous jargon to his unaccustomed ears.

"Do you understand what I have said?" asked Brown, at the close of his reading.

"Not entirely," said Sam,

"Then your education has been neglected. But it matters not. Raise him."

Jones and Robinson proceeded to lift Sam, one by the head, the other by the heels, rather to his alarm.

"What's your game?" he demanded, resisting.

"No harm is intended. It is one of the necessary formalities."

"Go ahead, then."

The two students bore Sam about the room, chanting discordantly as they went. At length they set him down again in a chair. Then Brown passed his hand several times over Sam's face, explaining that this was one of the necessary formalities also. Then the bandage was taken off, and a Greek book was handed to Sam.

"We will test your scholarship," said Brown. "Read."

Sam stared at the Greek page in bewilderment, turning the book upside down, but not finding it any more intelligible.

"I can't read this stuff," he said.

"You need not render it into English," said Brown. "Pronounce it in the original."

"I can't," said Sam, helplessly.

The three looked at each other.

"You can't read Greek?" said Brown.

"Of course I can't."

"Then how did you get into college?"

"I walked in."

"I mean, how could you be admitted without knowing Greek?"

"I wasn't admitted. I never was here in my life before."

"What! Are you not Barker, of the freshman class?" asked the three sophomores in chorus.

"My name is Barker—Sam Barker—but I don't belong to any class."

"What made you say you did?"

"Just for fun."

"Sold!" exclaimed the three in concert. "I guess this has gone far enough," said Brown. "Let's unmask."

Masks were removed, the curtains raised, Sam was invited to wash his face, which Brown, in his manipulations, had blacked, and there was a hearty laugh all round. Sam was invited to tell his story and did so. The three students were wealthy, and took up a contribution for his benefit, amounting to ten dollars.

"I'll come round another day for half price," said Sam, humorously.

"The next time we initiate a freshman, it'll be the genuine article. All the same, we've had some fun. Won't you stay and dine with us? We shall have dinner in an hour."

"Thank you," said Sam, "I'm agreeable."

"We'll take you round to see the college before dinner. We can't do less by a member of the Alpha Zeta Society."

Sam laughed. "I guess you'll have to put down the name on a piece of paper," he said, "or I'll forget what society I belong to."

Sam's good humor and droll observations made him a favorite with the three students. He learned, to his surprise, that Brown was a cousin of Julia Stockton, whose acquaintance he had made on the Fall River boat.

"I was in town yesterday, and Julia mentioned you—said you were very polite to her. It is very strange we should run across each other so soon after."

"That's so," said Sam, and, calling to mind the ten dollars in his pocket, he could not help adding to himself: "It's mighty lucky, too."



CHAPTER XXVIII.

BROWN'S PLAN.

Brown, Jones and Robinson roomed in one of the college dormitories, but took their meals at a private boarding-house not far from the college yard. Memorial Hall had not yet been erected, and there was no public dining-place, as now. They paid a high price and enjoyed in return a luxurious table. About twenty students boarded at the same place, but less than half that number were present when Sam and the three sophomores entered the house.

"Leave your hat on the rack," said Brown, "and follow me."

He led the way into the dining-room and seated Sam beside himself.

"Is that your brother, Brown?" asked Bates, a classmate who sat opposite.

"Yes," answered Brown. "Do you think he looks like me?"

"He seems more intelligent," said Bates.

"Thank you. I owe you one."

"There's something about his left eyebrow that reminds me of you," said Bates, reflectively. "Yes, I should know he was your brother."

"I never saw him before," continued Brown. "He's been traveling ever since he was a baby, but this morning witnessed his happy restoration to my arms."

Sam listened to this chaffing with amusement. He relished it better than a discussion which followed upon the relative merits of two Greek authors which the students had been occupied with since entering college. This talk seemed very dry to Sam, whose previous life had hardly fitted him to take an interest in such subjects.

The dinner, however, he did relish, and did not fail to do justice to it.

"I think, Sam," said Brown, as the dessert came on, "that there is one society you will like better than the Alpha Zeta."

"What's that?" asked Sam.

"The Eta Pi Society."

"I can eat a pie as well as anybody," answered Sam, who, however, not being acquainted with the Greek alphabet, did not quite comprehend the joke.

"I should never think of doubting your word on that score. Here, Mary, bring this young man an extra large slice of apple pie. He has been working hard this morning."

At length the dinner was over, and the three students withdrew from the table.

"Well, Jones, what are your plans for the afternoon?" asked Brown.

"I'm going into town on important business."

"Such as what?"

"Ordering a new suit at my tailor's."

"That's important. How is it with you, Robinson?"

"I'm going in with Jones."

"To help him order his suit?"

"I shan't need any help in ordering it," said Jones. "I may need help in paying for it."

"I'd rather help order it," said Robinson. "Are you going into the city, Brown?"

"Not till four o'clock. I have a little work to do first. Sam, are you in any hurry to go back to Boston?"

"No," answered Sam. "I've made ten dollars this forenoon, and can afford to take it easy the rest of the day."

"Then stay with me until I go. I may have something to say to you."

"All right."

The three students parted; Jones and Robinson jumping on board a street car, while Brown took Sam to his room. It was not the one in which Sam's initiation had taken place, but another in the same dormitory, and was handsomely furnished. The walls were lined with fine engravings, and various ornaments adorned the mantel.

"Brown must be rich," though Sam. "I wish I had such a nice room."

"I'm going to read a little Greek," said Brown. "I was away two days last week, and I want to make up the lessons. You may find something on that bookcase to amuse you. Stretch yourself out in that armchair and make yourself comfortable."

Sam accepted the invitation willingly. He was not particularly bashful, and made himself quite at home. Most of the books on Brown's shelves struck him as very dry; but he finally found one profusely illustrated, and this entertained him till Brown, after an hour's silence and turning over the pages of his Greek dictionary, closed his books and said: "Well, thank goodness, that job's over!"

"Have you got through?"

"Yes, for to-day."

"Don't it make your head ache to study so hard?" asked Sam, curiously.

Brown laughed.

"I don't study hard enough to endanger my head," he answered. "I am not likely to become a martyr to science."

"You must know a lot," said Sam, opening the Greek book, and surveying the pages with admiring awe.

"My Greek professor does not appear to be of that opinion," said Brown, "judging from the way he marks me. However, it is quite possible that he is prejudiced, and can't appreciate modest merit. What have you got there?"

"The 'Arabian Nights' Entertainments,'" said Sam.

"Do you like it?"

"It's tiptop. I wish I had that lamp I've been reading about."

"Aladdin's lamp?"

"Yes."

"What would you do?"

"Call for a lot of money."

"You are poor," said Brown, thoughtfully,

"Yes, I'm about as poor as I want to be. I've been lookin' round for a fortune for five or six years; but I haven't found it yet."

"What can you do?"

"I was a clerk in New York."

"That means an errand boy, doesn't it?" inquired Brown, shrewdly.

"Yes," said Sam, not disturbed by being found out.

"How much did you receive for your services in New York?"

"Five dollars a week," answered Sam, telling the truth, by way of variety.

"I am afraid it would be hard to get that in Boston. Are you not fit for anything better?"

"I am afraid not," said Sam. "The fact is, I don't know much."

"In other words, your education has been neglected."

"Yes, it has."

"That's in your way. If you wrote a good hand, and were good at figures, you might perhaps do better than become an errand boy, though even then it is doubtful whether you could obtain more than five dollars a week."

"I don't see how I can live on that," said Sam, "even if I could get it."

"It would be rather hard," said the student. "I have twice that for spending money."

"And don't you have to pay for your clothes or your meals?" asked Sam.

"No, nor for my books, nor any of my college bills."

"Your folks must be awful rich," said Sam, not without a touch of envy.

"My father is prosperous in business," Brown admitted.

"Does he live in Boston?"

"No, he lives in Brookline."

"Where is that?"

"Not far from the city—not over three miles away."

"Couldn't your father give me a place in his store?" asked Sam.

"I don't think he has any vacancy,"

Sam looked despondent. Brown appeared to take an interest in him, and he had hoped that he might do something for him.

"But," Brown continued, "I have another plan for you."

"What is it?" asked Sam, his hopes reviving.

"I have a young brother of fourteen at home—there are only two of us; but he is small and delicate. He is lame, besides, having met with an accident when quite young. He is unable to go to school, as it would prove too great a tax upon one in his delicate state of health. He takes lessons at home, however, of a visiting tutor, as in this way his studies can be arranged to suit his varying strength. Now, I have been long of opinion that he requires a boy companion, older than himself, who is naturally lively and cheerful, to share with him in his amusements, to accompany him in his walks, and share with him in his studies. From what I have seen of you, I think you are just the companion my brother wants. Have you any bad habits?"

Sam had shrewdness enough to perceive that it would be better for him to be truthful. Besides, to do him justice, Brown's kindness had made an impression upon him, and he would have felt ashamed to deceive him.

"I am afraid I have," he answered; "but I could get rid of them."

"What are your bad habits?"

"Sometimes I swear," said Sam, candidly.

"Will you give that up?"

"Yes, I will."

"What else?"

"Sometimes I smoke cigars."

"You must give that up. My father abominates cigars."

"I will."

"What else?"

"I don't always tell the truth," said Sam, courageously.

"Lying is very ungentlemanly, to say the least. Do you think you can get over that?"

"Yes."

"Then, I will ask my father to take you on trial. I am going over to Brookline to supper this afternoon, and I will take you over, and talk with him about it. Will you go?"

"I'll go," said Sam, eagerly. "I'd like to be with your brother ever so much."



CHAPTER XXIX.

ARTHUR BROWN.

At half-past five Sam and his companion reached the home of the latter in Brookline. It was a handsome mansion, with ample grounds, standing some rods back from the street.

"That's where I live, Sam," said the young student.

"It's an elegant place," said Sam, admiringly "I hope your father'll take me. I'd like to live here ever so much."

"There's my brother the one I spoke to you about."

Brown pointed out a boy considerably smaller than Sam, who was hurrying to the gate as fast as his lameness would admit. His thin, pale face was lighted up with joy, as he espied his brother.

"I am glad you have come, Charlie," he said. "It's so lonely here during the week."

"And how are you feeling, Arthur?" asked his brother, laying his hand caressingly on the shoulder of the younger boy.

"Oh, I'm all right; only lonely."

"I've brought you some company—don't you see?"

For the first time Arthur's attention was drawn to Sam.

"I am glad to see you," he said, politely extending his hand. "Are you a friend of Charlie's?"

"Yes, Arthur," the student replied, anticipating our hero. "This is my friend, Sam Barker."

"Are you in college, Mr. Barker?" asked Arthur.

"Please call me Sam," said our hero. "I am only a boy, and I don't begin to know enough to be in college."

"Nor I, either," said Arthur.

"Come into the house," said the elder brother. "Has father got back from the city?"

"No; he sent word that he should not be back till evening. We are to take supper without him. You are going to stop over Sunday, I hope, Charlie?"

"Yes, till to-morrow evening. Sam will stay, too. Won't you take him up to the little room next to yours? He will want to wash before supper."

Sam did not know that he needed to wash, but accepted this as a hint.

"Won't it be too much trouble for you?" he asked, thinking of Arthur's lameness.

"Oh, no," said the lame boy. "I can go upstairs almost as quick as if I wasn't lame. Come this way, please."

Sam followed him upstairs. He was shown to a small, but handsomely furnished chamber.

"You'll find everything you need, I think," said Arthur. "That room," pointing to one adjoining, "is mine; so we shall be near neighbors."

"I am glad of that. If burglars get in in the night, I'll come to you for protection."

"I am afraid I couldn't do you much good. You are a great deal stronger than I."

"Then I'll protect you."

"Do you live in Boston, Sam?"

"I only came to Boston a few days ago. I came from New York."

"Did you live in the city?"

"Yes. Were you ever there?"

"I have passed through New York on my way to Saratoga. I went up the Hudson River on a steamboat."

"We call it the North River there."

"We stopped at the Fifth Avenue Hotel."

"That's a tiptop hotel. I've been in there often."

"Are you going to live in Boston?"

"If I can find anything to do. I am not rich like you."

"No," said Arthur; "but you are something better."

"What is better than being rich?" asked Sam, incredulously.

"You are strong and healthy. You are not an invalid like me."

"How long have you been lame, Arthur?" inquired Sam, who had naturally a kind heart, and was already beginning to feel an interest in his new friend.

"Ever since I was a very small boy."

"Your brother is strong enough."

"Yes, Charlie's got muscle," said Arthur, proudly. "He's one of the strongest fellows in his class. He goes to gymnasium regularly. You ought to feel his arm. He's going to belong to the boat club next year."

By this time Sam had finished his ablutions.

"Come downstairs, and I'll show you the stable," said Arthur. "I guess there'll be time before supper."

"How many horses have you got?"

"Three carriage horses. Father would buy me a pony, but he's afraid I might fall, and not be able to help myself."

"Do you go to school?"

"No; my health is not good enough. The doctor says I must be out in the open air a good deal, and must not overtax my brain. I suppose you have been to school a good deal."

"Well, no," said Sam; "I am afraid of overtaxing my brain, too."

Arthur laughed. "I don't think, from your looks, that you need feel afraid," he said.

"You've no idea how delicate I am," said Sam, humorously.

"I should think you might be," said Arthur, merrily; "but you are very successful in not showing it."

"That's why I don't get any sympathy. What do you do all day long if you don't go to school?"

"I study some, and recite to a tutor who comes out from Boston; but I have a good deal of time to myself. I've been very lonely since my mother died," he added, soberly.

"How long ago was that?" Sam inquired, with sympathy.

"A year ago. Her death was a great loss to me, as Charlie has been away from home so much, and father is all day in the city."

"Are there no boys round here that you can play with?"

"There are boys, but I can't join in their sports, on account of my lameness."

"I wonder whether he will like the idea of my staying with him," thought Sam. "We could have good times together."

They went out to the stable, and looked about till the supper-bell rang. Everything was well arranged, and on a scale which indicated that Mr. Brown was a man of wealth.

More and more Sam though he would like to live there.

Entering the dining-room, where the supper was provided, they found the older brother already present.

"Have you two boys got acquainted?" he asked.

"Yes," said Arthur; "it didn't take us long. I've been showing Sam the stable."

"How do you like what you have seen?" asked the sophomore.

"Tiptop," said Sam.

"Take a seat there, Sam; Arthur, you know your place. I must preside in father's absence."

They talked together socially during the meal, Sam getting to feel better and better acquainted as time went on. After supper they took another walk, and then Arthur asked: "Do you play backgammon, Sam?"

"I never learned."

"Shall I show you?"

"I wish you would."

The backgammon board was brought out, and the two boys had a pleasant evening. As the older brother heard their lively laughter, and noticed how Arthur seemed brightened up by Sam's companionship, he felt more and more that it would be a good plan to keep him there. When his father reached home, a little before nine o'clock, he made the proposal to him.

"I am convinced," he said, "that Arthur needs a young companion, of a cheerful temperament, who will brighten him up, and keep him in good spirits.

"Do you know anything of this boy?" asked Mr. Brown, cautiously.

"Not much, except that Arthur appears to fancy him. His education has been neglected."

"That would not matter. He could study regularly with Arthur, and recite to his tutor."

"That occurred to me."

"Has he any bad habits?"

"No confirmed bad habits. If it should prove so, he can be dismissed."

"Would he like to come?"

"Of that I am sure. Indeed it would be a great thing for him, as he is poor, and has no friends to help him along."

"Then he may stay a month on trial. You may speak to him about it."



CHAPTER XXX.

HOW IT WAS ARRANGED.

"Sam," said the young student, the next morning, "I have spoken to my father about your remaining here as a companion to Arthur."

"What did he say?" asked Sam, anxiously.

"That you may stay a month on trial. If the arrangement proves satisfactory, you can remain longer."

"I'm ever so much obliged to you," said Sam, overjoyed. "I hope I'll suit."

"I hope you will, too, for Arthur's sake. You must bear in mind that we expect you to lay aside all your bad habits, and try to become refined and gentlemanly."

"I'll try," said Sam, earnestly.

"You will take lessons of Arthur's tutor, and study with him. Though considerably younger than you are he is much more advanced in his studies, and will be able to help you in any difficulties."

"Perhaps he won't want to be bothered with me."

"On the contrary, it will interest and amuse him to be so occupied. There is no reason why you should not improve fast."

"I want to know something," said Sam. "Ever since I met that girl on the boat I've been ashamed of being such a know-nothing."

"I am glad to hear you say that. It is encouraging to find that you are sensible of your deficiencies. It is the first step toward remedying them."

"Will the tutor lick me if I don't know my lessons?" asked Sam, anxiously.

The student smiled. "He wouldn't do that," he answered, "but he will inform my father—that is, if you persist in neglecting your lessons—and that might lead to your being dismissed."

"I'll study," said Sam. "You see if I don't, even if it makes my head ache awful."

"You look as if you could stand a mode amount of study," said the sophomore, smiling good-naturedly. "If your head aches very bad we can give you some pills."

"I guess it won't," said Sam, hastily, for he had a distinct remembrance of having been dosed with some very nauseous pills in his early days.

"My father will see that you are provided with suitable clothes," proceeded Brown; "and you shall have a little spending money also; but you must not spend any of it for cigars."

"I won't," said Sam, virtuously.

"It seems almost like a dream," he added, "to think of my having a private tutor, with nice clothes and spending money. I wonder what Henry Martin would say."

"Who is Henry Martin?"

"I used to room with him in New York. He is a nice boy, Henry is, a good deal better'n me. He used to save his money and put it in the bank, and study evenings."

"And you didn't, I suppose?"

"No. I was a fool; but I won't be any longer. I'm going to turn over a new leaf."

"If you do, I shall not regret having engaged you as a companion for Arthur."

Here Arthur's voice was heard, as he entered the room.

"What are you two talking about?" he inquired.

"I was telling Sam you would miss him when he went away."

"So I shall. Why can't he stay a little longer?"

Arthur had not yet been told of the plan for giving him a companion.

"You would get tired of me," said Sam.

"No, I wouldn't."

"Not if I stayed a month?"

"Will you, really?" asked Arthur, his pale face brightening up with evident pleasure.

"He shall stay if you would like to have him," said his brother, "and study with you every day. I think Prof. Taylor will be willing to take one additional pupil."

"Will he live here in this house?" asked Arthur, with animation.

"Certainly,"

"Then I shan't feel lonely any more," said Arthur. "I've been wanting company."

"I am sorry to say Sam's studies have been neglected, and he may require some assistance in getting his lessons."

"I'll help him," said Arthur, eagerly.

So it was arranged, and so it was that Sam; after drifting about for years, found at last a good home.



CHAPTER XXXI.

TWO YEARS LATER.

More than two years have elapsed. In the fine old home at Brookline, Sam and Arthur are sitting out on the lawn. Both have changed. Arthur looks stronger and better than when Sam first made his acquaintance, His thin face is more full, his pallor has been succeeded by a faint tinge of color, and he looks contented and happy. But the greatest change has come over Sam. He is now a young man of eighteen, well-formed and robust, handsomely dressed, with a face not only attractive, but intelligent. These two years have improved him greatly, as we shall see.

"I can hardly realize that Charlie is to graduate next week," said Arthur.

"He was a sophomore when I first met him," said Sam. "How little I thought that the meeting would be so important to me!"

"And to me!" said Arthur. "You have up idea how lonely I felt before you came."

"You have an idea how ignorant I was at that time," said Sam.

"You didn't know much, to be sure," said Arthur, smiling. "I remember how I had to drill you in the multiplication table."

"My spelling was rather weak," said Sam.

"I should say it was; it was original, at least," said Arthur. "To tell the truth, I was rather dismayed when I found how little you knew. But you have made it up bravely."

"Yes," said Sam, complacently, "I think have; but still you are ahead of me."

"Not in all things. You write a much better hand than I."

"I am afraid it is my only accomplishment," said Sam.

"But not your only acquisition. You are a good English scholar. I don't mind telling you, however, that in the first three months I never expected you would be."

"I used to have the headache pretty often about that time," said Sam.

"Yes; I sympathized with you at first, till I began to suspect that it was all put on."

"It was harder for me to apply myself than you, Arthur. My street life made it so. It was only by degrees that I got the habit of application."

"It was a good thing for me that I had to assist you. It gave me an object in life. Besides, it made me work harder myself in order to continue able to do it. I used to get low-spirited, and feel that I was of no use in the world."

"You don't feel so now," said Sam, with a look of affection; for Arthur seemed to him like a dear, younger brother, whom it was his duty to care for and protect.

"Oh, no," said Arthur, cheerfully. "I am much better and stronger now. And that leads me to a little secret which affects both you and me. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, Arthur."

"Father is going to take both of us into the office, to learn business. I shall only be there about half the day, but you will have full hours. How will you like that?"

"It is the very thing I would like above all others," said Sam, with animation. "I want to be doing something. I want to earn my own living. When are we to go into the office?"

"On the first of September."

"Not till then?"

"No; we are to spend the summer at the White Mountains. Late in August Charlie will sail for Europe, where he is to travel for a year, and we two are to be disposed of as I have told you."

"It was a lucky day for me, Arthur, when I became your companion. But for that I might have been the same shiftless fellow I was before, fit for nothing except to run errands or sell newspapers."

"Are you sure you are fit for anything better now?" asked Arthur, mischievously.

"I hope so," said Sam. "Time will show."

The arrangement indicated was carried out. Sam, through his bright, sunny disposition, had become a favorite with all the Browns, who, besides, felt grateful to him for the good effect his companionship had had upon Arthur's health and happiness. It had long been understood between Charlie and his father that Sam was eventually to be taken into the office, and promoted as rapidly as his abilities would justify. He was allowed a liberal salary, and continued a member of Mr. Brown's family.



CHAPTER XXXII.

CONCLUSION.

Henry Martin meanwhile had not stood still. Two years after Sam entered Mr. Brown's counting-room Henry became chief clerk in the office of his New York employer. Mr. Hamilton had permitted him to share in the general ventures of the firm, and this had enabled Henry, with his habits of prudence, combined with his savings from a largely increased salary, to lay up four thousand dollars, which were securely invested. His salary now was one hundred dollars a month, and he was promised, on the approaching first of January, further increase. His prudence, industry and self-denial had reaped their fitting reward.

He had never heard a word from Sam since the latter left New York for Boston.

It would be difficult to explain why Sam had not written, for he had learned to respect Henry, and to prize the traits he had formerly laughed at.

"I am afraid Sam has come to no good," Henry sometimes said to himself. "He was always a harum-scarum fellow, good-natured, but lazy and heedless. I wish I could do him a good turn. I have been so prospered that I could afford to help him along if I could only find him."

But months and years passed, and there were no tidings of Sam.

One day as Henry was engaged at his desk, a young man entered the counting-room. He was handsomely dressed, with a bright, intelligent look, and the appearance of one who was on good terms with the world. He glanced inquiringly at Henry, and then said: "Am I speaking to Mr. Henry Martin?"

"Yes, sir," said young Martin, politely. "What can I do for you?"

"I believe I used to know you, Mr. Martin," said Sam, smiling; for it was our old friend, the young outlaw.

"I beg your pardon," said Henry Martin; "I must apologize for my poor memory, but I cannot recall your face."

"I should have known you at once," said Sam. "You have the same sedate, grave manner that you had when a boy."

"Did you know me as a boy?" asked Henry, puzzled.

"Slightly," answered Sam, smiling again. "I used to room with you."

"You are not Sam Barker!" exclaimed Henry, in the deepest astonishment.

"Who says I am not?" said Sam.

Henry Martin jumped from his stool, and grasped Sam's hands cordially.

"I see it now," he said. "There is the same look, though you are five years older. I am delighted to see you, Sam. Where have you been all these years?"

"In and near Boston," answered Sam.

"You look as if you had prospered."

"I have. I am bookkeeper for a Boston merchant, with a handsome salary."

"Where on earth did you pick up bookkeeping?" asked Henry, in continued amazement.

"I studied under a private tutor for two or three years," answered Sam, enjoying his perplexity. "I have only been in business two years."

"Didn't it make your head ache?" asked Henry, slyly.

"It did at first, but I got over that after a while."

"I can't understand it at all, Sam. It seems like a romance. I never thought you would turn out like this."

"Nor I, Henry. But it is a long story. Come and see me this evening at the St. Nicholas, and I will tell you all. I must leave you now, as I have a little business to attend to."

That evening Henry and Sam met at the hotel, and each told his story, to the deep interest of the other.

"You have been very lucky, Sam," said Henry, at the end. "I never supposed you would reform so completely and thoroughly. You were a pretty hard case when I knew you."

"So I was," said Sam; "and I would have been to this day if I had not turned over a new leaf. Sometime I hope to introduce you to the two friends to whom I owe my reformation."

"Who are they?"

"A young lady of Boston, Miss Julia Stockton, and my most valued friend, Arthur Brown."

"So there is a young lady in the case, Sam?"

"I know what you are thinking of, Henry; but it isn't as you suppose. Julia Stockton will never be any more than a friend to me. Indeed, she is engaged to be married next month to Arthur's elder brother, Charlie, who has just been admitted to the bar. But I shall always feel indebted to her for first leading me to look upon myself as an ignorant and heedless boy. I never became ambitious till I met her."

"Then my lectures did no good, Sam?"

"Not at the time. Afterward I thought of them, and saw that you were right. And now that we have found each other, Henry, don't let us remain strangers. Can't you come and see me in Boston?"

"I am to visit Boston, on business, in October, Sam. I won't fail to look you up then."

* * * * * * *

Henry kept his word. Sam received him with cordial hospitality, and henceforth the two remained fast friends. It is not necessary to sketch their future. Both are on the right track, though Sam was much later in finding it; and the young outlaw, as well as his more prudent companion, is likely to prosper more and more as the years roll by.



* * * * * * *



Transcriber's Note:

Several typographical errors in this edition have been corrected in keeping with the author's original intent. The corrections are here listed as chapter followed by a colon, beginning words of paragraph in which the error appears followed by a semicolon, and a description of the error and/or the correction made.

Chapter 2: '"Oh! You're the boy I heard him speak of.'; joined to following paragraph.

Chapter 3: 'They stood before a shabby brick dwelling,'; 'ldging-house' changed to 'lodging-house'.

Chapter 5: '"Saturady night, the boss said,'; 'Saturady' changed to 'Saturday'.

Chapter 5: '"I'l lend you a dollar if you'll be sure to pay me'; 'I'l' changed to 'I'll'.

Chapter 5: '"I don't think you have. You have been extravagent,'; 'extravagent' changed to 'extravagant'.

Chapter 6: '"Take that, then; it's the last one I have.'; missing double-quote at end inserted.

Chapter 10: '"Wasn't that a tiptop dinner?"'; 'would't' changed to 'wouldn't'.

Chapter 10: 'Settlement was made, and Henry,'; 'accomodation' changed to 'accommodation'.

Chapter 11: '"Thirty-five dollars. It isn't much,' missing double-quote at end inserted.

Chapter 11: '"He's like Sam," though Henry.' 'though' changed to 'thought'.

Chapter 13: '"Yes sir; I have twenty-six dollars'; 'depost' changed to 'deposit'.

Chapter 14: 'Sam entered the banking house,'; 'windew' was changed to 'window'.

Chapter 15: '"We saw that the signiture was not correct,': 'signiture' changed to 'signature'.

Chapter 16: '"I've got a room of my own,"' missing period at end of sentence added.

Chapter 16: 'He looks sober,"' paragraph joined with following by same speaker.

Chapter 16: '"Mr. Dalton looked up as he entered.' spurious double-quote at beginning of paragraph deleted.

Chapter 18: '"That's the number of your birth."' 'birth' changed to 'berth'.

Chapter 20: 'The birth Sam was to occupy' 'birth' changed to 'berth'.

Chapter 23: '"To-day," said Sam."' spurious double-quote at end of paragraph deleted.

Chapter 23: 'After a walk they returned to lunch.'; 'astonishmen' changed to 'astonishment'.

Chapter 23: '"Should't wonder," said Sam.'; 'Should't' changed to 'Shouldn't.

Chapter 24: 'Presently fatigue everpowered Sam,'; 'everpowered' changed to 'overpowered'.

Chapter 24: '"Only ten dollars and a half!"'; in the sentence 'Let me me see if there is anything more."' the extra 'me' was removed.

Chapter 24: '"Yes ma'am" said Aner.'; comma added after 'ma'am' and 'Aner' changed to 'Abner'.

Chapter 24: '"Good-by old woman!" muttered Abner ase he closed the door,' 'ase' changed to 'as'.

Chapter 25: 'By this time Sam began to feel a little desondent.'; 'desondent' changed to 'despondent'.

Chapter 25: '"Don't forget to call at the house.'; 'wil' changed to 'will'.

Chapter 26: 'The voice was heard again,'; 'apearance' changed to 'appearance'.

Chapter 27: '"Not as I know of.' missing double-quote at end of paragraph added.

Chapter 27: 'The door was locked and then Brown said:'; 'Barber' was changed to 'Barker'.

Chapter 27: '"That book," indicating the photograph album,' missing double-quote at continuation of dialogue inserted.