ned it. He's
worse than the old man, who is always blowing about 'before the war' and
his grandfather and his old pictures. I can buy better ancestors on
Broadway for twenty dollars."

Mr. Rhodes gathered up his papers and rose to his feet.

"You could not make yourself as good a descendant for a million," he
said, fastening his eye grimly on Ferdy.

"Oh, couldn't I? Well, I guess I could. I guess I am about as good as he
is, or you either."

"Well, you can leave me out of the case," said Mr. Rhodes, sharply. "I
will tell you that you are not as good as he, for he would never have
said to you what you have said to him if your positions had been
reversed."

"I don't understand you."

"I don't expect you do," said Mr. Rhodes. He stalked away. "I can't
stand that boy. He makes me sick," he said to himself. "If I hadn't
promised his governor to make him stick, I would shake him."

Ferdy was still smarting under Mr. Rhodes's biting sarcasm when the
three came together again. He meant to be even with Rhodes, and he
watched his opportunity.

Rhodes was a connection of the Wentworths, and had been helped at
college by Norman's father, which Ferdy knew. One of the handsomest
girls in their set, Miss Louise Caldwell, was a cousin of Rhodes, and
Norman was in love with her. Ferdy, who could never see any one
succeeding without wishing to supplant him, had of late begun to fancy
himself in love with her also, but Mr. Rhodes, he knew, was Norman's
friend. He also knew that Norman was Mr. Rhodes's friend in a little
affair which Mr. Rhodes was having with one of the leading belles of the
town, Miss Harriet Creamer, the daughter of Nicholas Creamer of Creamer,
Crustback & Company.

Ferdy had received that day a letter from his mother which stated that
Louise Caldwell's mother was making a set at Norman for her daughter.
Ferdy's jealousy was set on edge, and he now began to talk about Norman.
Rhodes sniffed at the sneering mention of his name, and Gordon, whose
face still wore a surly look, pricked up his ears.

"You need not always be cracking Norman up," said Wickersham to Rhodes.
"You would not be if I were to tell you what I know about him. He is no
better than anybody else."

"Oh, he is better than some, Ferdy," said Mr. Rhodes. Gordon gave an
appreciative grunt which drew Ferdy's eyes on him.

"You think so too, Keith, I suppose?" he said. "Well, you needn't. You
need not be claiming to be such a friend of his. He