industriously exchanging a check labeled Baltimore to a trunk
bound for Jersey City, was absolutely convincing. But from the limit
whence the cherub continueth not the imp began. His collar was
crumpled and smutty with the descent of many signs, a salmon-pink
necktie had quarreled with a lavender shirt and retreated toward one
ear, one cuff had broken loose and one sulked up the sleeve. His green
serge pockets bulged in every direction, while the striped
blue-and-white trousers, already outgrown, stuck to the knees and
halted short of a pair of white socks that in turn disappeared into a
pair of razor-pointed patent-leathers.

Young Stover's career at Miss Wandell's Select Academy for boys and
girls had been a tremendous success, for it had ended in a frank
confession on Miss Wandell's part that her limited curriculum was
inadequate for the abnormal activities of dangerous criminals.

As Stover completed the transfer of the last trunk-checks the stage
for Lawrenceville plodded cumbrously up, and from the box Jimmy hailed
him.

"Eh, there, young Sporting Life, bound for Lawrenceville? Step
lively."

Stover swung up, gingerly pushing ahead of him the battered bag.

"Lawrenceville?" said the driver, looking at it suspiciously.

"Right the first time."

"What house?"

"Oh, the Green will be good enough for me."

"Well, tuck in above."

"Thanks, I'll cuddle here," said Stover, slipping into the seat next
to him, "just to look over the way you handle the ribbons and see if I
approve."

Jimmy, connoisseur of new arrivals, glanced behind at the only other
passenger, a man of consular mould, and then looked at Stover in
sardonic amusement.

"Don't look at me like that, old Sport," said Stover impressively;
"I've driven real coaches, sixteen horses, rip-snorters, and all that
sort of thing."

Jimmy, having guided the placid animals through the labyrinths of
Trenton, gave them the rein on the long highway that leads to
Lawrenceville and turned to examine Stover with new relish.

"Say, Bub," he said at length, "you're goin' to have a great time at
this little backwoods school--you're going to enjoy yourself."

"Think I'm fresh, eh?"

"Fresh?" said Jimmy thoughtfully. "Why, fresh ain't at all the word."

"Well, I can take care of myself."

"What did they fire you for?" said Jimmy, touching up the horses.

"Who said they fired me?" said Stover, surprised.

"Well, what was it?" said Jimmy, disdaining an expl