"I know you now," said the girl, her look softening a little. "You're the sport that done up Dutch Jake for kickin' a kid one night in Stuber's restaurant." "I _have_ been in there occasionally," Jack confessed. He was going to add "I am sorry to say," but remembered that might be rude. "I promised Mrs.--er--Mrs. Haggerty, to sit here until she returned," he continued, "but I suppose I am not needed now?" "No, much obliged to you, I'll stay with Jimmy till she gets back." Jack took up his hat and stick, but paused a moment awkwardly as he turned to leave. "Would you--er--would you mind," he said, hesitatingly, "my--er--my--er--my _lending_ a little money--for the boy, you know?" The girl laughed bitterly. "I guess we can stand it," she said. "If you never spent your money worse than that, I'm mistaken. You can give us the tin. We ain't proud." "Thanks," murmured Jack, vaguely feeling that he was being helped out of an awkward attempt. He pulled out the contents of his pocket, both bills and change. "I dare say you _will_ spend it better than I." Just as he was handing the money to the girl, there was a knock on the door, and in answer to her heedless "come in" a man entered. It was a classmate, named Talcot, whom Jack knew only by sight as one of Varnum's "Y. M. C. A. pals." He stopped in astonishment, and then frowned, as he recognized Rattleton, and saw him giving the money. "Mr. Rattleton, I believe?" Jack looked him in the eye, and nodded stiffly. "Don't you think, sir," asked the worthy student, with an indignant sneer, "that you had better confine yourself to your expensive clubs, and to your regular haunts in town?" Jack colored again, the shade of his little ribbon; but this time it was not a blush. He bit his lip for a moment, and gripped his stick hard. "I am afraid I had," he said very slowly, as he moved towards the door. "But I will tell you one thing, Mr. Talcot," he added as he paused in the doorway. "I am an awful fool, I know, but I am not mean enough to think that every damn fool must be a damn rascal. I will give you an opportunity later to apologize. Good-night, Jimmy. Come along, Blathers," and he strode down-stairs. "Pheugh," puffed Rattleton, as he got out in the grateful fresh air again. "I got it in the neck twice in that round. Guess I'd better keep out of that kind of a ring hereafter."