“By the way, I didn’t see Jim Smith at the table.”

“No; he eats with his uncle and aunt afterward.  You noticed that old Sock didn’t eat just now.”

“Yes, I wondered at it.”

“He has something a good deal better afterward.  He wouldn’t like our dinner any better than we did; but he is better off, for he needn’t eat it.”

“So Jim fares better than the rest of us, does he?”

“Yes, he’s one of the family, you know.”

Just then pleasant fumes were wafted to the boys’ nostrils, and they saw through the open window, with feelings that cannot well be described, a pair of roast chickens carried from the kitchen to the dining-room.

“See what old Sock and Ma’am Sock are going to have for dinner?” said Wilkins, enviously.

“I don’t like to look at it.  It is too tantalizing,” said Hector.

CHAPTER XI.

Hector receives A summons.

It so happened that Hector was well provided with money.  During the life of Mr. Roscoe, whom he regarded as his father, he had a liberal allowance—­liberal beyond his needs—­and out of it had put by somewhat over a hundred dollars.  The greater part of this was deposited for safe-keeping in a savings bank, but he had twenty-five dollars in his possession.

At the time he was saving his money, he regarded himself as the heir and future possessor of the estate, and had no expectation of ever needing it.  It had been in his mind that it would give him an opportunity of helping, out of his private funds, any deserving poor person who might apply to him.  When the unexpected revelation had been made to him that he had no claim to the estate, he was glad that he was not quite penniless.  He did not care to apply for money to Allan Roscoe.  It would have been a confession of dependence, and very humiliating to him.

No sooner was school out, than he asked Wilkins to accompany him to the baker’s, that he might make up for the deficiencies of Mr. Smith’s meager table.

“I suppose, if I guide you, you’ll stand treat, Roscoe?” said Wilkins.

“Of course.”

“Then let us go,” said his schoolfellow, with alacrity.  “I’d like to get the taste of that beastly dinner out of my mouth.”

They found the baker’s, but close beside it was a restaurant, where more substantial fare could be obtained.

“Wilkins,” said Hector, “I think I would rather have a plate of meat.”

“All right!  I’m with you.”

So the two boys went into the restaurant, and ordered plates of roast beef, which they ate with evident enjoyment.

“I guess,” said the waiter, grinning, “you two chaps come from the institute.”

“Yes,” answered Hector.  “What makes you think so?”

“The way you eat.  They do say old Smith half starves the boys.”

“You’re not far from right,” said Wilkins; “but it isn’t alone the quantity, but the quality that’s amiss.”