--{ TO CARIBOO AND BACK }--

The next instant a lanky youth tumbled
headlong through the parlor door.

“Let me be! I ain’t doing any harm!” he
whined.

The boy rubbed himself gingerly where he
had been kicked; then observing that there
were other people in the room he came up to
the table, still protesting he meant no harm.
What the others saw was a white-faced, good-
looking boy, but starved in appearance and with
a hangdog expression of countenance.

“What did they do to you 2? demanded Mary,
indignation in her tone, for she was always
ready to help the under dog in a fight.

“Kicked me out because I sang a song like
the rest of them was doing, and sang it better
than them, seein’ I was a choir boy once, in a
church at ’ome, before I came across the erring
pond.” |

“So you're English?” the professor asked.

“Yes, sir; I’m English, sir.”

“Whatever brought you so far away from
home?”

“The same as brought you, I fancy, sir,”
the boy answered, rather pertly. “Hard about

~

pe
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