"But would you cut off everything?" objected Hoffman. "Is a man to have no recreations, no amusements?" "That is another question," coolly answered Hamilton. "Our present business is to ascertain what has become of the two hundred and sixteen dollars which remained of your salary after boarding and clothing bills were paid. That is a handsome gold chain. What did it cost?" "Eighteen dollars." "Bought lately?" "Within six months." "So much more accounted for. Is that a diamond pin?" Hoffman colored a little as he answered,-- "Not a very costly one. Merely a scarf-pin, as you see. Small, though brilliant. Always worth what I paid for it." "Cost twenty-five or thirty dollars?" "Twenty-five." "Shall I put that down as one of the year expenses?" "Yes, you may do so." "What about stage and car hire? Do you ride or walk to and from business?" "I ride, of course. You wouldn't expect me to walk nearly a mile four times a day." "I never ride, except in bad weather. The walk gives me just the exercise I need. Every man, who is confined in a store or counting-room during business hours, should walk at least four miles a day. Taken in installments of one mile at a time, at good intervals, there is surely no hardship in this exercise. Four rides, at six-pence a ride and we have another item of twenty-five cents at day. You go down town nearly every evening?" "Yes." "And ride both ways? "Yes." "A shilling more, or thirty seven and a half cents daily for car and stage hire. Now for another little calculation. Three hundred days, at three shillings a day. There it is." And Hamilton reached a slip of paper to his friend. "Impossible!" The latter actually started to his feet. "A hundred and twelve dollars and fifty cents!" "If you spend three shillings a day, you will spend that sum in a year. Figures are inexorable." Hoffman sat down again in troubled surprise, saying, "Have you got to the end?" "Not yet," replied his companion. "Very well. Go on." "I often notice you with candies, or other confections; and you are, sometimes, quite free in sharing them with your friends. Burnt almonds, sugar almonds, Jim Crow's candied fruits, macaroons, etc. These are not to be had for nothing; and besides their cost they are a positive injury to the stomach. You, of course, know to what extent you indulge this weakness of appetite. Shall we say that it costs an average of ten cents a day?" "Add fruit, in and out of season, and call it fifteen cents," replied Hoffman. "Very well. For three hundred days this will give another large sum--forty-five dollars?" "Anything more?" said Hoffman in a subdued, helpless kind of way, like one lying prostrate from a sudden blow.