The young orator paused suddenly in the midst of his speech, and at sight of Pluto Snyder the following words issued from his lips: “Get down there, you cow-headed----” “Stop the fool!” cried some one, directing his remarks against the newcomer, rather than Larry. A constable happening to stand near, and misunderstanding the real situation, he seized upon Pluto and began to drag him from the scene. The more the hapless young Snyder struggled the firmer he was held in the grasp of the officer, who showed him no mercy, but pulled him away, while the crowd cheered him for his efforts. In a moment the quiet was restored, but Larry stood dumb with dismay, unable to know what to do. “Go on!” cried Job Westcott. “That fellow shan’t pester you any more.” Others urged Larry to proceed, and, like one taking a leap in the dark, he again began his speech. The well-rounded periods of the law student gone from him, Larry was obliged to depend upon himself. It was the best thing that could have happened to him. Fortunately, too, he selected a subject familiar to him, and in glowing language he pictured the lives of those lowly ones dwelling in the narrow streets and dark alleys of the great city who had never heard of a Fourth of July, much less tasted of its joys. As he kept on, Larry really waxed eloquent, and for more than twenty minutes he held his listeners’ undivided attention. It was an address which is still talked over at Gainsboro. At its close a deafening applause, which lasted for several minutes, rang up and down the grove. When he stepped down from the platform Larry was greeted by a circle of admirers, and as soon as she could reach his side Lucy came forward with her compliments, which were worth more than all the other praise showered upon him. But he was too confused to speak intelligently. “It was all a mistake--a miserable mistake, and----” At this juncture Pluto Snyder, having broken from his captors, reached the spot, and, boiling with rage, cried out: “Let me get at the hoodlum! He stole my speech--he is a sneaking----” Seeing Lucy standing by Larry, he suddenly stopped his storm of abuse, saying, in a milder tone: “You here, Miss Lucy, in the company of such a scapegoat? Let us go home, and I will tell you of the miserable trick he played on me.” Lucy Howlitt, to whom all this was a mystery, not liking the appearance of Mr. Snyder under his excitement, declined to go home with him, pleading that her father was waiting for her. Thereupon the crestfallen law student went away in a high dudgeon, using language neither becoming a gentleman or fit to be spoken in the presence of a lady. “Come, Lawrence,” said Lucy, “you will please ride home with papa and me. There is plenty of room, and I want to hear your explanation of this affair. I did not dream you were capable of making such an address.”