mode of life
would precipitate a deluge. The safety of my position lay in owing
everybody, and in inducing each to believe that he would be the
one person ultimately or immediately to be paid. Moreover, I was
now completely spoiled and craved so ardently the enjoyments in
which I had indulged that I would never of myself have had the will
to abjure them. I had gained that which I sought--reputation. I
was accounted the leader of the fast set--the "All Knights" as we
were known--and I was the envy and admiration of my followers.
But this bred in me an arrogance that proved my undoing. It was
necessary for me to be masterful in order to carry off the pose of
leadership, but I had not yet learned when to conciliate.

It so happened that in the spring of my junior year my creditors
became more than usually pressing, and at the same time a Jew by
the name of Poco Abrahams began to threaten suit on a note of mine
for two thousand dollars, which I had discounted with him for seven
hundred and fifty. I made my usual demands upon my friends and
offered to do them the favor of letting them go on some more of my
paper, but without the usual result. I then discovered to my
annoyance that a wealthy young fellow know as "Buck" de Vries, who
had considered himself insulted by something that I had said or
done, had been quietly spreading the rumor that I was a sort of
hocus-pocus fellow and practically bankrupt, that my pretensions
to fashion were ridiculous, and that I made a business of living
off other people. Incidentally he had gone the rounds, and, owing
to the rumors that he himself had spread, had succeeded in buying
up most of my notes at a tremendous discount. These he lost no
time in presenting for payment, and as they amounted to several
thousand dollars my hope of reaching a settlement with him was
small. In point of fact I was quite sure that he wanted no settlement
and desired only revenge, and I realized what a fool I had been to
make an enemy out of one who might have been an ally.

In this embarrassing situation I bethought me of old Mr. Toddleham,
and accordingly paid him an unexpected visit at Barristers' Hall.
It was a humid spring day, and I recall that the birds were twittering
loudly in the maples back of the Probate Office. As befitted my
station at the time of year, I was arrayed in a new beaver and a
particularly fanciful pair of rather tight trousers.

"Come in," squeaked Mr. Toddleham, and I