-dollar bills his father had
mailed to him, with the good news of his fortune.

"Tell him about the music," suggested Ben.

"Oh, yes, I thought I'd have Professor Smuller furnish some
music--harp and violin."

"Fine! They can sit in the alcove, and we'll put some of our palms
around them," returned Jason Sparr.

"Remember, this is for next Saturday night, seven o'clock sharp," said
Phil.

"I've got it down," returned the hotel proprietor, as he wrote in his
book.

"And don't say anything to anybody about it. I want to surprise my
friends."

"Very well, mum's the word," and the hotel man looked very wise and
knowing.

Leaving the place, Phil and Ben sought out the home of Professor
Smuller, a violinist, who, with a friend who played the harp, often
furnished music for dances and other occasions.

"Yes, yes, I can furnish music," said the violinist. "Just tell me
what you want." Business was slow and he was glad to get any sort of
an engagement.

The matter was explained, and the professor promised to be on hand and
bring the harpist with him. He said he could play anything the
students desired, including the well-known school songs. He would fill
the engagement for the boys for eight dollars, although his regular
price was ten. But he would have to have cash in advance.

Again Phil paid out his money, and then, the business concluded, he
and Ben left the professor's home and hurried along the road leading
to Oak Hall.

"Have you made up your list yet?" asked Ben, when nearing the school.

"Not quite. I'll have Dave and Roger and Shadow and Buster, of course.
I'll have to leave out some fellows, but that can't be helped. I
can't afford a spread for the whole school."

"Of course you can't."

"I think I'll have Luke and Sam, and maybe Gus and Chip."

As the boys drew closer to the school Ben had to stop to fix his shoe.
Both sat down on some rocks, at a turn in the road. They were about to
go on again when somebody made the turn of the road, coming from the
town. It was Nat Poole.

"Hello! you been to town?" cried Ben, good-naturedly.

"Yes," answered the money-lender's son. "Haven't I a right to go if I
want to?" he added, and then hurried on ahead of them.

"Rather peppery," mused Ben. "Say, Phil, there is one fellow you won't
invite, and I know it."

"Right you are, Ben," was the ready answer. "All I ask of Nat Poole
is, that he leave me alone."

But Nat was not to leave Phil alone, as even