a little gravely, "Hal, my boy, it is a great privilege to be the son of
a wealthy man. I have never cared for money, but I would like to be in a
position where I could have the pleasure of entertaining my friends in
this delightful way."

"I hope I appreciate it, Professor," replied the boy. "Dad is always
reminding me of the stacks of people not so well fixed as we are. He
frequently tells me of the times when he went hungry--really hungry,
without twenty-five cents with which to buy a meal, and he says if ever
I forget it and try to put on 'side' that he will thrash me within an
inch of my life, even after I am twenty-one."

The Professor roared, a regular boyish shout. "And he'd do it, too, I
believe," he chuckled. "That is what makes Sir George so wonderful;
with all his wealth he is the same dear old chap he always was. I knew
him when he was your age almost--and the only thing about him that has
changed is his hair; it is a little thinner now--and grey."

"Yes, dad's a boy yet," smiled Hal, "but I won't give him a chance to
lick me on the money score; it's too good fun having you all here, and
a royal holiday ahead of us, without hunting for a trimming from dad
because I play the la-de-da or think I'm the whole thing."

Shag was thinking hard, but he said nothing; yet, little as he knew of
the world, he was quite aware how few boys in Hal's position would act
as he had done. Had it not been for Sir George's son what would his life
at college have been? He knew Locke never liked him, he knew that Shorty
positively disliked him, he knew there was a strong element of prejudice
in the school against him, and he knew positively that, were it not for
Lord Mortimer's influence and recommendation, he would never have been
accepted in this exclusive college as a student. What then did he owe
to Hal? Everything, as far as making life in the East bearable, as far
as being received on an equality with the other boys went. It was a
tremendous debt that he owed this handsome boy who was his host for the
summer. But before the holiday was ended Shag paid that debt with all
his heart, and almost with his life.

It happened one day from the simple cause that the camp had run short of
bread, and one of the youngsters from the Pacific coast, Freddy by name,
had volunteered to paddle over to the mainland for it. The sailboat
being laid up for repairs, Freddy ran out the light little Peterborough,
and was just getting away from t