Then the curtain arose on Tom Brown and his father in the tap-room of the inn. Mr. Brown, Sr., impersonated by Crocker of the varsity crew, was a hale and hearty country squire in wig, long coat, and top-boots; while a small junior, in ridiculous long trousers and chimney-pot hat, made up excellently as a rather nervous Tom. Crocker delivered his speech of advice in a manner that captured the audience, Boots appeared at the door to announce that the stage-coach was waiting and the curtain descended amid applause. Dick, however, saw nothing of this. Having gained the wings he seized his hat from a chair, and, unobserved, made his way out of the door into the rear hall, clattered down the stairs and into the darkness. From the brightly lighted building came the sound of clapping hands and laughter; ahead the village street stretched in semidarkness. A yellow gaslight flared at each corner of the little triangle known as The Park. Dick almost ran. As he passed Watson’s stables a challenging bark told him that Muggins had heard his footsteps. On the next corner stood Bradford’s boarding-house. Dick found the front door unlocked, and after a moment’s hesitation climbed the stairs. On the landing above five portals confronted him, but from under only one of them did any light shine. He knocked. A voice bade him enter. Obeying, he found himself in a long, low-studded room, handsomely, almost luxuriously furnished. On a broad couch under the strong light of a big bronze lamp, a book in his hand and his listless eyes turned inquiringly toward the door, lay Roy Taylor. CHAPTER XXII TAYLOR ACCEPTS DEFEAT “Hello, Hope!” Taylor raised himself and stared wonderingly at the visitor. His pale cheeks flushed and an unaccustomed embarrassment seized upon him. “Sit down,” he continued. “I--I’d given up looking for you.” Dick tossed his cap on the table, and drew a chair to a position near the couch. His face, too, was pale, but there was no sign of embarrassment visible; only a strong determination was indicated by the little creases in his forehead and the sudden squaring of his jaw. He launched into the subject of his visit abruptly. “I came over because I’m sick of this business, Taylor. Look here, I acted like a brute and a contemptible cad the other night; I knew it then; I don’t know what got into me. I’ve tried to stick it out, but it’s no good.” Taylor was gazing at him with a puzzled frown. “I ask your pardon, Taylor, for taking advantage of you--of your position that night, and I want you to say that you forgive me. The promise you made--rather, the promise I forced from you--doesn’t hold. I’m going to resign the captaincy to-morrow, and it’s yours as soon as you want it, as far as I’m concerned.” He paused and looked intently at Taylor. The latter gave a little embarrassed laugh, and dropped his eyes to the book beside him.