good-looking lad, with light hair and snapping blue eyes that
seemed to look right through you. Yet, withal, they were merry eyes, and
dancing with life.

Chet Anderson was rather short and stocky, not to say fat; but if any of
his friends mentioned such a thing Chet was up in arms at once. Chet, I
might explain, was a contraction for Chetfield; the lad being named for
his grandfather.

Ben Snow was always jolly. In spite of his name he was of a warm and
impulsive nature, always ready to forgive an injury and continually
seeking a chance to help someone. Clever, full of life and usually
looking on the bright side, Ben was a humorous relief to his sometimes
more sober comrades.

Quiet and studious was Frank Newton, a good scholar, always standing
well in his class, and yet with his full share of fun and sport. He was
a mainstay on the baseball team, where he had pitched many a game to
victory.

With the exception of Tom Hatfield you have now met the lads with whom
the first part of this story is chiefly concerned. Tom was one of the
nicest fellows you could know. His parents were wealthy, but wealth had
not spoiled Tom. He was happy-go-lucky, of a generous, whole-souled
nature, always jolly and happy, and yet with a temper that at times
blazed out and amazed his friends. Seldom was it directed against any of
them; but when Tom spoke quietly, with a sort of ring like the clang of
steel in his voice, then was the time to look out.

The five lads came from the same town, as has been said, and had been
friends, more or less, all their lives. With their advent at Milton
their friendship was cemented with that seal which is never
broken--school-comradeship. You boys know this. You men who may chance
to read this book know it. How many of you, speaking of someone, has not
at one time said:

"Why, he and I used to go to school together!"

And is there anything in life better than this--an old school chum? It
means so much.

But there. I started to tell a story, and I find myself getting off on
the side lines. To get back into the game:

Link Bardon had hardly finished telling his good Samaritan boy friends
of his trouble with Mr. Snad, when the burly farmer reappeared. Striding
up to his hired man--his former employee--he thrust some crumpled bills
into his hand, and growled:

"Now you get out of here as fast as you can. I've seen enough of you!"

"And I may say the same thing!" retorted Link. He was getting back