That, therefore, was the situation when Lawyer Ripley came back into the room.

“What a jovial, friendly pair!” railed the lawyer, who held a slip of paper in his hand, as he advanced toward the freshman.

“Prescott,” declared the lawyer, “I can’t tell you what is in my heart.  I can’t even pay you adequately for what you have done for me and for my boy.  But I ask you to accept this as a slight indication, only, of what I feel.”

Dick took the paper, glancing at it curiously.  It was the lawyer’s check for two hundred and fifty dollars.

“Accept it,” begged the lawyer, in a rather pompous voice.  “Do whatever you please with it.”

Dick colored.  “Whatever I please with it?” he asked, a bit unsteadily.

“Yes; certainly, of course,” murmured the lawyer.  “I have no doubt whatever that a live? healthy boy can find something to do with a check like that.”

Flushing still more deeply, while Fred Ripley looked on, at first enviously, Dick Prescott tore the check into several pieces.  The lawyer stared at him in amazement.

“I appreciate your intention, Mr. Ripley,” Dick went on, his voice a bit husky, “and I thank you, sir.  But I can’t take any money.”

“Can’t take it?” repeated the astonished lawyer, while Fred Ripley fairly gasped.

“I can’t accept money, sir, for an act of humanity.”

“Oh!  But I think I can convince you, my boy, that you can.”

“I’m equally sure that you can’t Mr. Ripley,” persisted the freshman, smiling.  “But again I thank you for the intention.”

Lawyer Ripley was a good deal of a judge of human character. 
He began to feel sure that the freshman was speaking the truth.

Just at that moment some one entered the outer office.  Mr. Ripley glanced out, then said: 

“I shall have to ask you to excuse me for a few moments.  Fred, of course you have just thanked Mr. Prescott again for his heroic act?”

“N-n-no, sir,” stammered Fred.

“When I return I don’t want to have to hear another answer like that,” warned the lawyer, sternly.  Then he closed the door behind him.

Dick turned, with a dry smile.

“Since you’re under orders to thank me, Fred, get it over with quickly,” laughed the freshman.  “I’ll help you all I can.”

Young Ripley’s better nature really was stirred for a moment.

“Of course I thank you, Prescott,” he stammered.  “It was a splendid thing for you to do.  I—–­I don’t know as I had any right to expect it, either, for I’ve been pretty mean to you.”

“I know,” replied Dick, with the same dry smile.  “You put Tip Scammon up to the High School locker thefts, to get me in disgrace, and unlucky Tip had to go to jail for it.”

Fred Ripley glared at the freshman with terror-stricken eyes.

Then, without warning, Fred made a leap for ward, to clutch Dick by the throat.