Andy Grant's Pluck. Alger Horatio Jr.

am really sorry, Andrew," said the doctor. "You are one of my best pupils. I am not sure but the best. There is scarcely one that I would not sooner lose. I shall be willing to take you for half price—that is, for one hundred and fifty dollars—till you are ready for college."

      "Thank you, Dr. Crabb," replied Andy, gratefully. "You are very kind, but even that sum my father, in his changed circumstances, would be unable to pay. Besides, it would be quite out of my power to go to college even if I were prepared."

      "It is a thousand pities," said the principal, with concern. "If you must leave, you must. I am not sure but I should be willing to take you gratuitously."

      "Thank you; but I feel that I ought to go to work at once to help my father. It is not enough that I free him from expense."

      "No doubt you are right. I respect you for your determination. You need not hesitate to apply to me at any time in the future if you see any way in which I can be of service to you."

      "I think it will help me if you will give me a letter of recommendation, which I can show to any one from whom I seek employment."

      "I will give you such a letter with great pleasure;" and the doctor, sitting down at his desk, wrote a first-class recommendation of his favorite pupil.

      There was general regret in the academy when it was learned that Andy must leave them. One little boy of twelve—Dudley Cameron, a special favorite of Andy—came to him to ask if there was no way by which he could manage to stay.

      "No, Dudley! I am too poor," said Andy.

      "If I write to papa and ask him to send you a thousand dollars, will you stay?" asked the little boy, earnestly.

      "No, Dudley; you mustn't do anything of the kind. Even if your father liked me as well as you do, and would give me the money, I could not take it. I must go to work to help my father."

      "You will write to me sometimes, Andy?"

      "Yes; I will be sure to do that."

      The little fellow's warm-hearted offer, and the expressions of sympathy and regret on the part of his schoolmates, cheered Andy. It was pleasant to think that he would be missed.

      On the closing day he received the first prize for scholarship from the hands of Dr. Crabb.

      "You will take my best wishes with you, Andy," said the venerable principal. "Let me hear from you when you have made any business arrangement."

      The farewells were said, and Andy set out on his return home.

      He was leaving the old life behind him. A new one lay before him, but what it was to be he could not foresee.

      He reached Arden in due course and set out to walk home. He had barely started when he heard his name called.

      Looking around, he saw Conrad Carter, the squire's only son, on his bicycle.

      "So you've come home from the academy?" said Conrad, curiously.

      "Yes," answered Andy, briefly.

      He never could bring himself to like Conrad, who made himself offensive and unpopular by his airs of superiority. Indeed, there was no boy in Arden so thoroughly disliked as Conrad.

      "You'll have a pretty long vacation," went on Conrad, with a significant laugh.

      "Yes, I suppose so."

      "Oh, well, it's the best thing for you. I thought it foolish when your father sent you off to the academy. If the Arden grammar school is good enough for me it is good enough for you."

      "There is nothing to prevent your going to the academy."

      "I know that. My father could afford it, even if it cost a good deal more. You wanted to go to college, didn't you?"

      "Yes."

      "It was very foolish for a poor boy like you."

      "Of course your age and experience make your opinion of value," said

      Andy, with a sarcasm which he did not care to conceal.

      "I advise you not to be too independent," returned Conrad, displeased.

      "Are you going to work on the farm?"

      "I may till I get a situation."

      "I'll speak to father. He might take you for an errand boy."

      "I don't think that place would suit me."

      "Why not?"

      "I want to go into some mercantile establishment and learn business."

      "That's what I am going to do when I get through school. Of course there is no hurry in my case."

      "I suppose not."

      "I suppose you know that my father has taken a mortgage on your father's farm?"

      "Yes, I know that."

      "If your father can't pay the mortgage when it is due, father will have to take the farm."

      Andy made no answer, but thought Conrad more disagreeable than ever. By way of changing the conversation, he said:

      "That's a new bicycle, isn't it?"

      "Yes; I got tired of the old one. This is a very expensive one.

      Wouldn't you like to own a bicycle?"

      "Yes."

      "Of course, you never will."

      "Then I must be content without one."

      "Well, I must leave you. I'll come around soon and see you ride a horse to plow."

      As Conrad sped away on his wheel, Andy said to himself:

      "I shouldn't like to be rich if it made me as disagreeable as Conrad."

      CHAPTER IV.

      PREPARING FOR THE PICNIC

      The change in his father's circumstances had come so suddenly that Andy could not immediately decide upon a plan of securing employment.

      He was not idle, however. There was work to do on the farm, and he took off his uniform, for Penhurst Academy was a military school, and donned, instead, a rough farm suit, in which he assisted his father.

      If he felt a pang of regret he did not show it, for he did not wish to add to his father's grief over his imprudent act of friendship.

      It was while he was at work hoeing corn that Conrad Carter came up one day, and leaning against the fence, looked at Andy with an amused expression.

      "Oho, you've turned farmer in earnest!" he said.

      "Yes, for the time being," answered Andy, composedly.

      "You look fine in your overalls."

      "Do you think so? Thank you for the compliment."

      "You might as well keep on. You will probably succeed better as a farmer than in business."

      "I mean to succeed in anything I undertake."

      "You've got a comfortable opinion of yourself."

      "While you, on the contrary, are modest and unassuming."

      "What do you mean?" asked Conrad, coloring.

      "I meant to compliment you, but if you don't like it I will take it back. Suppose I say that you are neither modest nor unassuming."

      "If that is the way you are going to talk to me I will go away," said

      Conrad, haughtily. "It is a little imprudent, considering—"

      "Considering what?"

      "That my father can turn you all out at the end of two years."

      "If that is the way you are going to talk to me I shall be glad to have you go away, as you just threatened."

      "Pride and poverty don't go together very well," said Conrad, provoked.

      "I don't want to be either proud or poor," returned Andy, smiling.

      "That fellow provokes me," thought Conrad. "However, he'll repent it some time."

      In