d him. His parents and Jim,
and sometimes his old friend the rector, would constantly be about his
bed, and to all of them it soon became evident what little hope there
was of his recovery. Indeed, he must have guessed it too!

One day, as Jim sat with him, a faint shout was heard below in the
quadrangle.

"What's that?" inquired George.

"I'll see," said Jim, and he went lightly from the room.

Presently he returned with a face almost beaming.

"It's good news," he said; "they were reading the result of the Tripos."

"And where are you?" asked George.

"_You_ are first!" said Jim, proudly.

"Where are you?" repeated George.

"I am twelfth."

"In the first class?"

"Yes."

"That is good news, old fellow!"

"That shout was in your honour, you know; our college is as proud as
anything to have the first man."

George smiled feebly, and for a long time both were silent.

Then George said,--

"You were right, Jim, after all. If I had listened to you I should have
been wiser."

"Never mind, old man, you'll know better another time."

"I shall never have the chance, Jim."

"Don't say that, George; every one hopes you'll get better."

George smiled again, then said,--

"Jim, you will look after my father and mother, won't you? You know
I've got a little money now, and they will be comfortably off, but
you'll go and see them now and then?"

Jim laid his hand on the wasted hand of his friend.

"And, Jim, I want you to take my watch when I'm gone. I always valued
it as much as anything, and I'd like you to have it."

Poor Jim could say nothing, he only gave another pressure of his
friend's hand.

Then presently Mrs Reader returned to the room, and he slipped away.

The end was not long in coming. One afternoon as the four friends he
loved most stood round his bed, George opened his eyes, and said,--

"Listen!"

"What is it, lad?" whispered the father.

"An organ--somewhere--open the window."

They opened the window, but the only music out there was the chirping of
birds in the trees, and the distant footfalls of passers-by.

"Listen, there it is!" he said again.

"What is it playing?" asked the clergyman.

"A new tune."

And almost as he spoke the words, he closed his eyes for the last time
on earth.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

HOW I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF AN OLD FRIEND.

Boys may imagine with what astonishment Jim Halliday discovered, on
receiving the legacy bequeathed him b