“Reginald,” she said, as soon as she entered the room, “you have been smoking.”

Rex was reading by the window, and he turned around in startled disquiet.

“No, I haven’t, mother,” he replied quickly.

“Where does that smell of cigarette smoke come from, then?” and Mrs. Pell coughed and then came up close to look her son in the eye.

“Dudley Harrington has been here,” he replied.  “He was smoking.”

“You are sure you were not smoking with him?” went on Mrs. Pell, adding with a sudden bending down over him, “Kiss me.”

Rex complied, glad indeed that this time, at any rate, there was nothing he wished to conceal.

“Forgive me for doubting you, Reggie,” said his mother, as she lingered an instant to stroke the hair back from his forehead.

Once more Rex weakened in his purpose, if one can be said to weaken when he is really stronger for the moment to resist an impulse for evil.  But then he reflected that now he had the money and the opportunity of getting off to the station without being questioned.  The facts seemed to will that he should go.

And he went, stopping for Harrington at half past four.  When they reached the station he found that he had to pay a dollar extra for the privilege of riding over to New York in the Chicago Limited.

But it was very select to travel on such a train, and the dinner that he and Harrington ate en route was one long to be remembered.

In fact there were so many new and novel sensations and impressions received from this first stage of his trip, that Rex was surprised he did not derive more solid enjoyment from it.

It was impossible for him to keep out of his mind, however, the fact that he was now supposed to be at Marley with Scott Bowman.  He had come away without leaving behind him the note he had at first planned to write.

“You must come to Yale sure, Reggie,” Harrington told him.  “Can’t you get ready to enter next fall?  I’ll be a junior then, and can look out for you, you know.”

“I wish I could,” returned Rex, rather more soberly than the nature of the subject seemed to warrant.

He was thinking that it would be so much pleasanter to go to New Haven legitimately than in his present stolen fashion.

When they arrived at New York, Harrington said he would go at once to the hotel where he was to meet some of “the boys.”  Rex wondered whether they were going to stop at this hotel over night, and if to, how much it would cost.  But he decided he would not ask, but wait and find out.

It was nearly eight when Harrington sent up his card to J. Ashley Stout in one of the plainer looking hotels on upper Broadway.  Word came back that Mr. Stout was in his room on the fifth floor and would be glad to have Mr. Harrington come up.

“Come on, Reggie,” said the Philadelphian.

Rex was not sure whether he liked Harrington to call him Reggie.  Sometimes it seemed to place him on a more familiar footing with the collegian, and at other times he had a suspicion that the name was employed merely to recall to the younger the fact of the difference in their ages.