“What’s to keep me from pocketin’ the whole thing?” asked the expressman. “Nothing; that’s what you’re to do. I’m giving you fifty cents for the trunk and fifty cents for a tip.” The expressman opened his eyes until they threatened to fall from his head. “Well, I’ll be darned!” he gasped. “Say, why couldn’t you give me the quarter I asked for in the first place?” “Because I didn’t please to,” was the calm response. “Your demand was unjust.” “Oh, you’re a wonder!” sighed the other hopelessly. “But, say, any time you want to go on with this, just let me know. You got the best of it to-day, but then you haven’t been wrestling with trunks since seven o’clock. Next time it might be different, eh?” There was no answer and the expressman pocketed his money, winked good-naturedly at John and went out. “Good-by, sonny,” he called from the hall. John smiled and Phillip Ryerson, scowling haughtily at him from the centre of the room, saw it and clenched his hands. “Now, sir, if you’ll be so kind as to follow!” he said in a high, arrogant voice. John’s temper suddenly gave way and he arose from the trunk. He moved slowly across the apartment until he was facing his host. “Look here, you are Ryerson, aren’t you――Phillip Ryerson, of Something-or-other Court House, What-you-call-it County, State of Virginia?” “Yes.” Phillip’s curiosity for a moment got the best of his wrath. “How do you know so much about me?” he asked suspiciously. “Oh, what does it matter?” answered John wearily. “But since you are Ryerson, allow me to tell you that you’re a very fresh little boy and ought to have a thundering good spanking. Good-afternoon.” Phillip watched him in silence until he had reached the door; he was very angry, deeply insulted, but he was also rather uneasy. His visitor, now that he observed him more closely, did not look quite like an impertinent proctor. He wondered if he had not been a bit ill-mannered and hasty. After all, if he wanted people to keep out of his room he should have locked the door. He took a step forward, his lips shaping a hurried apology. But the visitor passed into the hall, and after a moment of hesitation Phillip shrugged his shoulders. “Let him go, hang him!” he muttered. John found David at the dinner table. The former’s face still expressed a measure of exasperation as he sank into a chair at his friend’s side. David grinned. “How did you find the boy, Johnnie?” he asked. John flirted his napkin open and eyed his thick soup with disfavour before he answered. “Well, Davy,” he said finally, “I think he’ll do. I found him beating an expressman to jelly because the latter wanted to overcharge him. He seems a peculiarly gentle, amiable youth, and I think he will get on very nicely without our tender care, Davy.” “_Our_ care!” “I should have said mine. And I believe I neglected to add that later on he ordered me out of his room and that I went.” David chuckled loudly.