“Four dollars.” Jim blinked at that, and then Webb had said: “That’s a lie, kid. Two-eighty’s the price.” “I’ll get it. That other money, what you stole from Clem Harland, must go back to him. Remember, Webb, I’ll have to pay back what you used of it, and the five dollars I borrowed for you besides, and it ain’t going to be easy. Father’s pretty hard up this year, and I don’t get but ten dollars a month.” “Yeah, I know about your father. I wrote and tried to make a touch awhile back, but nothin’ stirrin’. Well, what you say goes, kid. You’re sure white, and I won’t forget it.” When he had reached the door Webb had called: “Say, kid, if you’ve got a quarter you ain’t needin’ you might hand it to the old guy there an’ tell him to fetch me in some supper. I’ll bet the _cuisine_ at this hotel’s rotten.” Jim had thrust a hand into an empty pocket and replied regretfully: “I haven’t got it, Webb.” “All right, kid. Don’t you worry. I ate good a while back. See you to-morrow.” Now, staring at the unsullied sheet of note paper before him and tapping his teeth with the end of his fountain pen, Jim was wondering where and how he was to get two dollars and eighty cents to give to Webb in the morning. He was determined that all that was left of Clem’s twenty-two dollars should go back to him untouched. Webb ought to have more than the mere price of his fare, too. He seemed certain that he had only to reach Norwalk to find work, but he would have to have money for food to eat to-morrow and the part of the next at least. Four dollars wouldn’t be a cent too much. Jim went to his closet and looked over his none too ample wardrobe. Jim knew nothing of institutions that loaned money on personal property and allowed you the privilege of redeeming it; he was trying to decide whether his heavy winter overcoat which, if truth were told, was far heavier than it was warm, or the light-weight suit he had worn back to school in the fall could be best given up. Either one ought to sell for a good deal more than four dollars; but how much more he didn’t know. His movements dislodged the football from the shelf above and it dropped with a startling thud on his head. He picked it up and was looking it over appraisingly when the door opened and Clem entered. Clem said “Hello,” glancing briefly from Jim’s face to the ball in his hands, and turned to his own closet to hang up his cap. If there was anything unaccustomed in his tone Jim didn’t notice it. He was thinking of what he had to say and wondering how Clem was going to take it. He walked back to the table, stared down at the waiting letter paper and, when Clem turned away from the closet, said: “I’m terribly sorry about what happened to-day, Clem.”