to be deceived. He was already in possession
of too much information to be put off. So Ben, who with all his love
of mischief was a boy of truth, finally owned up everything. His father
said very little, but told him the next morning that he had made up his
mind to send him to a military boarding-school, where the discipline was
very strict. Ben hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry, but finally,
as boys like change and variety, came to look upon his new prospects
with considerable cheerfulness.

XXIX.

DAWKINS IN DIFFICULTIES.

George Dawkins was standing at his desk one morning, when a man entered
the office, and stepping up to him, unceremoniously tapped him on the
shoulder.

Dawkins turned. He looked extremely annoyed on perceiving his visitor,
whose outward appearance was certainly far from prepossessing. His face
exhibited unmistakable marks of dissipation, nor did the huge breast
pin and other cheap finery which he wore conceal the fact of his intense
vulgarity. His eyes were black and twinkling, his complexion very dark,
and his air that of a foreigner. He was, in fact, a Frenchman, though
his language would hardly have betrayed him, unless, as sometimes, he
chose to interlard his discourse with French phrases.

"How are you this morning, my friend?" said the newcomer.

"What are you here for?" asked Dawkins, roughly.

"That does not seem to me a very polite way of receiving your friends."

"Friends!" retorted Dawkins, scornfully, "who authorized you to call
yourself my friend?"

"Creditor, then, if it will suit you better, mon ami."

"Hush," said Dawkins, in an alarmed whisper, "he will hear," here he
indicated Paul with his finger.

"And why should I care? I have no secrets from the young man."

"Stop, Duval," exclaimed Dawkins, in an angry whisper, "Leave the office
at once. Your appearing here will injure me."

"But I am not your friend; why should I care?" sneered Duval.

"Listen to reason. Leave me now, and I will meet you when and where you
will."

"Come, that sounds better."

"Now go. I'm afraid Mr. Danforth will be in."

"If he comes, introduce me."

Dawkins would like to have knocked the fellow over.

"Name your place and time, and be quick about it," said he impatiently.

"Eight o'clock this evening, you know where," was the answer.

"Very well. Good-morning."

"Mind you bring some money."

"Good-morning," returned Dawkins, angrily.

At length, much to his rel