ining-room,
was decorated with wild flowers and trailing vines, and in this
pleasant employment, and the preparation of a few dainty dishes for
the table, the forenoon passed swiftly.

The noon train had scarcely come to a stop at the little station at
the Y, when Ned Rutherford was seen rushing impetuously from the car,
his camera case as usual in one hand, at sight of which the two young
men waiting on the platform burst into a hearty laugh.

"There he is," said Houston, "the same old Ned!"

"The very same old boy!" added Van Dorn, as they hastened to meet
him.

"Hullo, Everard!" cried Ned, jumping upon the platform, "I say, but it
seems mighty good to see you again! How are you, Van Dorn?"

"How are you, Ned?" said Van Dorn, extending his hand, "we wouldn't
have known you if it hadn't been for that camera box of yours!"

"That so?" answered Ned, good-naturedly, "well, I always considered it
indispensable, but I didn't suppose my identity would be lost without
it."

Meanwhile, Houston had hastened to meet the elder brother, and it
could readily be seen that they were more than ordinary friends.

"Everard, old fellow!" he exclaimed, in response to Houston's
greeting, "this is the greatest pleasure I've had in many a day. I
never dreamed that the Houston of whom Ned wrote such glowing accounts
was my old friend."

"I used to think sometimes," said Houston, "when Ned was writing you,
that I would like to send you some reminder of old times, a college
password or signal that you would understand; but at that time, I
didn't know Ned very well, and of course I was anxious to conceal my
identity here."

"That was right," said the elder Rutherford, with a comical glance at
his brother, "Ned is rather injudicious, he belongs to that
unfortunate class of people, with the best of intentions, who usually
succeed in doing as much mischief as others with the worst."

"Right you are there," said Ned, "I'm always putting my foot in it one
way or another; I wouldn't advise anybody to make a confidant of me,
I'd give them away sure. I say, Everard," he continued, while his
brother and Van Dorn exchanged cordial greetings, "how are you getting
on, and how is the Buncombe-Boomerang combination?"

"We have been very successful so far, everything is nearly in
readiness, and the combination as you call it, cannot exist much
longer; we will give you full particulars later."

"And how are the ladies?" Ned inquired further.