His father he could barely remember, his mother died before he was old enough to have her image impressed upon his memory. He examined the locket and his heart was saddened. He felt how different his life would have been had his parents lived. He had never before realized the sorrow of being alone in the world. Misfortune had come upon him, and so far as he knew he had not a friend. Even Dr. Sampson, who had been paid so much money on his account, and who had always professed so great friendship for him, had turned cold. As he was standing with the locket in his hand there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” he called out. The door opened and a stout, coarse looking boy, dressed in an expensive manner, entered. “Good evening, John,” said Rodney, but not cordially. Next to himself, John Bundy, who was the son of a wealthy saloon keeper in the city of New York, had been a favorite with Dr. Sampson. If there was anything Dr. Sampson bowed down to and respected it was wealth, and Mr. Bundy, senior, was reputed to be worth a considerable fortune. In Rodney’s mood John Bundy was about the last person whom he wanted to see. “Ha!” said John, espying the open casket, “where did you get all that jewelry?” “It contains my mother’s jewels,” said Rodney gravely. “You never showed it to me before.” “I never had it before. It came to me by express this afternoon.” “It must be worth a good pile of money,” said John, his eyes gleaming with cupidity. “I suppose it is.” “Have you any idea what it is worth?” “I have no thought about it.” “What are you going to do with it? It won’t be of use to you, especially the diamond earrings,” he added, with a coarse laugh. “No,” answered Rodney shortly. “My eyes, wouldn’t my mother like to own all this jewelry. She’s fond of ornament, but pa won’t buy them for her.” Rodney did not answer. “I say, Ropes, I mustn’t forget my errand. Will you do me a favor?” “What is it?” “Lend me five dollars till the first of next month. My allowance comes due then. Now I haven’t but a quarter left.” “What makes you apply to me, Bundy?” “Because you always have money. I don’t suppose you are worth as much as my father, but you have more money for yourself than I have.” “I have had, perhaps, but I haven’t now.” “Why, what’s up? What has happened?” “I have lost my fortune.” John whistled. This was his way of expressing amazement. “Why, what have you been doing? How could you lose your fortune?” “My guardian has lost it for me. That amount to the same thing.” “When did you hear that?” “This morning.” “Is that true? Are you really a poor boy?” “Yes.” John Bundy was astonished, but on the whole he was not saddened. In the estimation of the school Rodney had always ranked higher than he, and been looked upon as the star pupil in point of wealth.