SCENE III.—_DICK’S room. JOE enters, R. He goes to table, C.,

and takes up book._

J. (_solus_). I thought I should find a dictionary _here_. Dick told me this morning I was the most “stultiloquent orator” he ever listened to. I never heard the word before, but it has quite a grand sound, and I mean to use it the first chance I get, but I want to know its meaning. (_Turns over the leaves, and finds between them a letter not yet folded._) Hallo, what’s this? (_Takes up letter._) A letter to Tim Bellamy. How I’d _like_ to read it! But then it wouldn’t be just the thing. (_Glances towards bottom of sheet._) What’s this? (_Reads._) “Now I tell you how we duped Joe Sherman.” Why, that’s me. I must find out about that. (_Sits down and reads._) “You know Joe is one of the most conceited boys in school. Well, some of us fellows thought we’d have a little fun at his expense through this failing. I heard, one evening, that a fortune-teller had arrived at the hotel. You know I always had a weakness for having my fortune told. So I went to see her, and finding her very pleasant and obliging, I arranged with her to tell Joe’s fortune in a way that would tickle his vanity. As I agreed to pay her for it, she was nothing loth to do her part, and she did it well. Several of us fellows were in the next room, and heard all that was said. She flattered him with glimpses of the future which raised his opinion of himself so much that, since then, he carries his head like a peer of the realm. By the way, these glimpses of the future were had by looking into a seven-by-nine mirror, which reflected pictures hung up behind Joe, and which we changed each time he looked into it. We enjoyed, hugely, listening to the interview, as I think we ought, for it took three of us several hours to draw the three pictures. It was also quite a tax on the imagination, which had to be stretched to the utmost to make Joe satisfied with his fortune. But we were successful. I can’t help laughing when I think how carefully he carried that little mirror home, promising to guard it sacredly. The fortune-teller told him that when next he looked in it it would reflect his image even more faithfully than it had yet done. I wonder what he thought when he _did_ look in it and saw nothing but his own homely countenance just as it was?” (_Puts back letter and closes the book._)

J. (_solus_). Well, that’s the meanest thing I ever knew Dick to do. I wonder who were with him; Harry and Tom most likely. But Dick was the ringleader. He always is. The idea of my being made such a laughing stock! (_Paces back and forth._) It was the climax of meanness. But I’ll turn the table on them. I guess Nat and I are capable of planning something which will pay up old scores. We’ll have a consultation to-night, for I want it done before Dick sends his letter, so he can not only tell the story of his exploit, but also give the sequel. (_A noise is heard, L._) Ah, somebody’s coming; I mustn’t be seen here.

(_Exit, R. Curtain falls._)