"DEAR DAVE:--You will be surprised to receive this, but I saw you in town to-day and noted the number of your carriage. I am in deep trouble and would like you to come and see me in private, if only for five or ten minutes. You can aid me a great deal. Please don't tell any of the others of your party. The man who brings this to you will take you to me. Please, _please_ don't disappoint me. "Yours truly, "ANDREW DALE." Andrew Dale was the first assistant teacher at Oak Hall, and an instructor who had made himself very dear to Dave and some of the other boys. He had sided with Dave when the latter was termed "a poorhouse nobody," and this had made teacher and pupil close friends. "What's the matter with my friend?" asked Dave, as he and Tom Shocker hurried through several side streets of the city. "I don't know exactly," was the reply. "Money matters, I think, and the gent is sick, too. He wanted it kept very quiet--said it might ruin his reputation if it got out." "Well, I didn't say anything to anybody," answered Dave. "How much further have we to go?" "Only a couple of blocks." But the "couple of blocks" proved to be five, and they had to make another turn or two. Then they came to the side door of a building used as a lodging house and a pool and billiard parlor. This resort was run by a man named Bill Fargo, a sport who had once had dealings with Shocker in a prize-fighting enterprise. "He's got a room here--up on the third floor," said Shocker, as he saw Dave hesitate. "Come on, I'll show you." He went ahead, up the somewhat dilapidated stairs, and Dave followed. In the pool and billiard parlors below some men were laughing and talking, and clicking the ivory balls together, but upstairs it was silent, and nobody seemed to be around. During the past few years of his life Dave had had a number of stirring adventures, and he was by no means as green as he had been when first he had set out for Oak Hall. He did not like the looks of his surroundings, and he resolved to keep his wits about him and be on his guard. "Why should Mr. Dale come to a place like this?" he asked himself. He knew the teacher to be a model man, who did not drink or gamble. "Here we are," said Tom Shocker, as he stopped in front of a door at the back of the hallway on the third floor of the building. "I guess you can go right in. He's on the bed with his broken ankle." "His broken ankle?" repeated Dave. "Why didn't you tell me of that before?" "I thought I did," returned Shocker, smoothly. "Here you are. It's dark, isn't it? I'll light the gas," and he commenced to fumble in his pocket, as if hunting for a match. It was dark, and for several seconds Dave could see little or nothing. He heard a faint groan. "Is that you, Mr. Dale?" he asked, kindly.