ouldn't."

"But did you?"

"No, I never did."

"I knew it from the first," exclaimed the other, triumphantly, "you're
nothing but a d--d--"

"Shut up, Mike Connell! don't ye dare say it!" shouted Mark Trefethen,
shaking a knotted fist in close proximity to the Irishman's face. "How
dare you insult the friend I've brought to this place? Lad's right
about the liquor, too, and damned if I'll drink a drop of it mysel'.
Same time, working-man or no, he's worth any two of you wi' his fists,
and, I'll bate, has more brains than the rest of us put together. So
keep a civil tongue in your head in the presence of your betters, Mike
Connell. Come, lad, time we were getting home. Mother 'll be fretting
for us."

Thus saying, the sturdy miner laid his toil-hardened hand on Peveril's
shoulder and led him from the place.

CHAPTER III

A 'VARSITY STROKE STRIKES ADVERSE FORTUNE

Richard Peveril, student at Christ Church, was not only one of the
most popular men in his own college, but, as stroke of the 'varsity
eight, was becoming one of the best known of Oxford undergraduates
when the blow was struck that compelled him to leave England and
return to the land of his birth without even waiting to try for his
degree. He had been an orphan from early boyhood, and, under the
nominal care of a guardian who saw as little of his charge as
possible, had passed most of his time in American boarding-schools,
until sent abroad to finish his education. While his guardian had
never been unkind to him, he had not tried to understand the boy or to
win his affection, but had placed him at the best schools, supplied
him liberally with pocket-money, and then let him alone.

Although the lad had thus been denied the softening influence of a
home, the tender care of a mother, and a father's counsel, his
school-life had trained him to self-reliance, prompt obedience to
lawful authority, a strict sense of honor, and to a physical condition
so perfect that in all his life he had never known a day's sickness.
Having always had plenty of money, he had never learned its value,
though in his school-days his allowance had been limited by the same
wise rules that also checked undue extravagance. Thus, while brought
up to live and spend money like a gentleman, he had not been permitted
to acquire vicious habits.

Even at college his allowance had always been in excess of his needs,
and so, though ever ready to help a friend in trouble, he had n