ng a few days with some cousins in Thirty-Seventh Street.
They are friends of the Greysons, and were invited here this evening,
and I with them. I little dreamed of meeting you here. I must say, Dick,
you seem quite at home."

"Mr. Greyson has been a kind friend of mine," said Dick, "and I've met
Ida quite often. But I felt a little nervous about coming to this party.
I was afraid I'd be like a cat in a strange garret."

"You're a wonderful boy, Dick. You look as if you had been used to such
scenes all your life. I can hardly believe you're the same boy I met in
front of the Astor House a little more than a year ago."

"If I'm changed, it's because of what you said to me then, you and your
father. But for those words I might still have been Ragged Dick."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Dick; but, for all that, a great deal of
credit is due to yourself."

"I've worked hard," said Dick, "because I felt that I had something to
work for. When are you going to enter college?"

"I expect to apply for admission in about two months."

"At Columbia College?"

"Yes."

"I am glad of that. I shall hope to see you sometimes."

"You will see me often, Dick."

Here the music struck up, and the boys parted. It is unnecessary to
speak farther of the events of the evening. Dick made several other
acquaintances, and felt much more at ease than he had anticipated. He
returned home, feeling that his first party had been a very agreeable
one, and that he had on the whole appeared to advantage.

CHAPTER XXII.

MICKY MAGUIRE RETURNS FROM THE ISLAND.

For three months Micky Maguire was not seen in his accustomed haunts.
During his involuntary residence at the Island he often brooded over the
treachery of Gilbert, to whom his present misfortune was due. He felt
that he had been selfishly left to his fate by his equally guilty
confederate. It had certainly been a losing speculation for poor Micky.
He had received but a paltry dollar for his services, and in return he
was deprived of his liberty for three months.

The disgrace of being sent to the Island Micky did not feel as Dick
would have done. He had been there too many times to care for that. But
he did not like the restraints of the place, and he did like the free
and independent life of the streets from which for a time he was
debarred.

The result of Micky's brooding was a strong thirst for vengeance upon
the author of his misfortunes. He could do nothing at pr