rselves, and are glad to have a pleasant place to invite
our friends to."

Maurice was astonished; but such is the influence of wealth, or
apparent wealth, upon a disposition like his, that he thawed, and made
up his mind that he had better change his manner toward one who was
able to afford living in such a style.

"He must have money," he thought. "Perhaps it's his rich uncle. I
thought he was lying, but I guess it's true, after all."

Tom saw the change in his manner, and it amused him.

"He thinks I'm somebody, after all," he said to himself. "What would he
say if he knowed what I used to be?--how I went round the streets of
New York calling out: 'Shine yer boots!' and was glad if I could earn a
dollar a day that way? I don't believe Mordaunt would mind. I'm going
to tell him some time, and see."

"Do you ever play checkers, Mr. Walton?" asked Mordaunt.

"Sometimes."

"Then suppose we try a game, or perhaps you will play with him,
Gilbert?"

"I'd rather look on," said Tom. "I don't know how to play, but maybe
I'll learn lookin' at you."

"Very well."

Two games were played, and then a waiter appeared from a neighboring
restaurant with some cake and ice-cream, of which Maurice partook with
evident enjoyment. His ideas with regard to our hero were quite
revolutionized. He was a good fellow, after all. So when he took leave,
at the close of the evening, he readily promised to come again, and did
not forget to do so.

"He'll take more notice of me now," said Tom, laughing. "He'll think
I'm somebody."

"It's the way of the world, Gilbert," said Mordaunt. "We must take it
as it comes."

"Maybe," said Tom, looking at his companion earnestly, "you wouldn't
like to have me room with you if you knew what I used to be."

"What did you used to be?" asked Mordaunt, not without curiosity.

"A New York bootblack."

"Is it possible?"

"Don't you want me to go?"

"No, Gilbert; my friendship is too strong for that. But I want to hear
about your former life. Sit down and tell me all about it."

Mordaunt listened with interest and surprise to the story of his
roommate.

"It seems," he said, in conclusion, "that there is a fortune somewhere
to which you are entitled."

"Yes," said our hero, "but my uncle will take pretty good care that I
don't get it."

"From your description he doesn't seem to be a credit to the family.
What are you going to do about it? Have you any plan?"

"Mr. Ferguson advises me to