In one corner a bunk was fastened against the wall. In another, a shelf contained several books, which Dave and Fred immediately spied and began to examine. A rude table and several equally rude stools completed the furnishings, save for a charcoal drawing which hung between the windows.
“That’s bully,” said Tom, admiringly. “Didn’t know anybody but Dave Brandon could draw so well.”
“I’m acquainted with the artist,” explained Norman Redfern. “He and his wife are spending the summer in a bungalow not far from here.”
“Well, he’s a dandy, that’s sure,” said Tom.
“Oh, look at these frivolous books,” laughed Joe Preston, a moment later. “You’ll never get Fred Winter away from ’em. Listen! Here’s Plutarch’s ‘Lives,’ Motley’s ‘Rise and Fall of the Dutch Republic,’ Gibbons’ ‘History of Rome,’ and books on Latin and Greek.”
“The kind of literature a tutor ought to read, I suppose,” said Norman, with a faint smile.
“Great Scott, have you tooted?” asked Joe. “Doin’ it now?”
An uncomfortable expression flitted across the other’s face. He hesitated for a moment, then, seeing the frank, interested looks on his visitors’ faces, replied, “No, not just at present—that is—oh, well, I suppose I might as well tell you——” then, as if half regretting his words, he stopped short.
But Joe Preston’s curiosity was aroused. Joe hated mysteries, or, rather, always liked to have them explained at once. So he said “Well?” in such a tone that there was no getting out of it.
“I’ll have to give you a short history of my life,” began Redfern, dryly. “Being an orphan, I had lived most of the time with an uncle, near Albany. He hadn’t much money, but he was of the right sort, and saw to it that my education was attended to. I was sent to a large academy near the city. There was another school not far away, and the rivalry between the two institutions was pretty fierce at times—mostly good-natured, of course. But that hasn’t anything to do with my story. After I graduated Uncle Ben passed away, and the little money he left, divided among numerous relatives, was soon gone, and yours truly was thrown on his own resources.