with the utmost composure.
"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones--"though I doubt," he
added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you."
"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?"
"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a
paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow
morning--you and your ferocious friend."
Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat--er--precipitate?"
"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany,
that you were a great fool to come back at all."
"Beany!"
"You don't mind if I sit down?"
A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they
stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and
leaned back against the store-front.
"Beany?" repeated Varney.
"It was dark down on the river," observed the other slowly, "but the
instant I saw you on the square, I recognized you, and so, my friend,
will everybody else."
"With even better success, I trust, than you have done. For my name is
not Beany, but indeed Varney--Laurence Varney--permit me--"
"Ah, well! Stick it out if you prefer. In any case--"
"But do tell me the name of this individual to whom I bear such a
marked resemblance. I naturally--"
"The individual to whom you bear such a marked, I may say such a very
marked, resemblance," said the stranger, mockingly, "is a certain Mr.
Ferris Stanhope, a prosperous manufacturer of pink-tea literature. You
never heard the name--of course. But never mind about that. I should
advise you both to leave town anyway."
"Is it trespassing too far if I ask--"
"Any one who associates with little Hare, as I have a premonition that
you two will do if you stay, is born to trouble as the sparks fly
upward."
Varney came a step nearer and rested his foot on the edge of the
packing-case.
"Now that," said he, "is by all odds the best thing you've said yet.
Elucidate it a bit, won't you? I admit to some curiosity about that
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