N

There are some boys, as well as men, who cannot stand prosperity.

It appeared that Mark Manning was one of these.

While his stepmother was living and his father's prospects--and
consequently his own--were uncertain, he had been circumspect in his
behavior and indulged in nothing that could be considered seriously
wrong.

When his father came into possession of a large fortune, and his pocket
money was doubled, Mark began to throw off some of the restraint which,
from motives of prudence, he had put upon himself.

About the middle of the week, as Frank was taking a walk after school
hours, he was considerably surprised to see Mark come out of a
well-known liquor saloon frequented by men and boys of intemperate
habits.

The students of Bridgeville Academy were strictly forbidden this or any
other saloon, and I am sure that my boy readers will agree with mo that
this rule was a very proper one.

Mark Manning appeared to have been drinking. His face was flushed, and
his breath, if one came near enough to him, was redolent of the fumes of
alcohol. With him was James Carson, one of the poorest scholars and most
unprincipled boys in the academy. It was rather surprising that he had
managed for so long to retain his position in the institution, but he
was crafty and took good care not to be caught.

To go back a little, it was chiefly owing to James Carson's influence
that Mark had entered the saloon.

When he learned that Mark's worldly prospects had improved, and that he
had a large supply of pocket money, he determined to cultivate his
acquaintance--though privately he thought Mark a disagreeable boy--with
the intention of obtaining for himself a portion of Mark's surplus
means.

At the first of the term he had made similar advances to Frank, but they
were coldly received, so much so that he did not think it worth while to
persevere in courting our hero's intimacy.

He succeeded better with Mark, his crafty nature teaching him how to
approach him.

"Mark," he said, with a great show of cordiality, "I am delighted to
hear of your good fortune. I always liked you, and I think you deserve
to be rich."

"Thank you!" said Mark, much gratified, for he liked flattery. "I am
sure I am very much obliged to you."

"Oh, not at all! I only say what I think. Shall I tell you why I am
particularly glad?"

"Yes, if you like," returned Mark, in some curiosity.

"Because I like you better than that young muff, yo