“Now, mamma, ‘listen to my tale of woe!’ I got off at the wrong station,—­yes, it was stupid; but wait:  perhaps I was led to be stupid.  I lost my way, could n’t find Professor Salazar’s house, could n’t find anything else.  As I was wandering about in a woodsy road, trying to find a house of some kind, I heard a crowd of boys singing vociferously as they came through the trees.  I did n ’t care to meet them, all alone as I was, though of course there was nothing to be afraid of, so I stepped off the road behind some trees and bushes until they should pass.  It turned out to be half a dozen university students, and at first I did n’t know that Edgar was among them.  They were teasing somebody to go over to San Francisco for a dinner, then to the minstrels, and then to wind up with a game of billiards, and other gayeties which were to be prolonged indefinitely.  What dreadful things may have been included I don’t know.  A wretch named ‘Tony’ did most of the teasing, and he looked equal to planning any sort of mischief.  All at once I thought I recognized a familiar voice.  I peeped out, and sure enough it was Edgar Noble whom they were coaxing.  He did n’t want to go a bit,—­I ’ll say that for him,—­but they were determined that he should.  I didn’t mind his going to dinners and minstrels, of course, but when they spoke of being out until after midnight, or to-morrow morning, and when one beetle-browed, vulgar-looking creature offered to lend him a ‘tenner,’ I thought of the mortgage on the Noble ranch, and the trouble there would be if Edgar should get into debt, and I felt I must do something to stop him, especially as he said himself that everything depended on his next examinations.”

“But how did you accomplish it?” asked Mrs. Oliver, sitting up in bed and glowing with interest.

“They sat down by the roadside, smoking and talking it over.  There was n’t another well-born, well-bred looking young man in the group.  Edgar seemed a prince among them, and I was so ashamed of him for having such friends!  I was afraid they would stay there until dark, but they finally got up and walked toward the station.  I waited a few moments, went softly along behind them, and when I was near enough I cleared my throat (oh, it was a fearful moment!), and said, ’I beg your pardon, but can you direct me to Professor Salazar’s house?’ and then in a dramatic tone, ‘Why, it is—­is n’t it?—­Edgar Noble of Santa Barbara!’ He joined me, of course.  Oh, I can’t begin to tell you all the steps of the affair, I am so exhausted.  Suffice it to say that he walked to Professor Salazar’s with me to make my excuses, came over to town with me, came up to the house, I trembling for fear he would slip through my fingers at any moment; then, you know, he stayed to dinner, I in terror all the time as the fatal hours approached and departed; and there he is, ‘the captive of my bow and spear,’ tucked up in Mrs. Howe’s best bed, thanks to your ingenuity!  I could never have devised that last plot, mamma; it was a masterpiece!”