foreclosure, which took place directly after his funeral.

It was a couple of weeks before the expiration of the last term for the three school friends, when a black-edged letter came to inform Fred about the death of his father and his own penniless condition. A double blow that was, which prostrated the poor Australian boy, and took the sunshine out of his life.

He dearly loved his father, although he had not seen that father for the six years he had spent at Shebourne Academy. To know that he should never again on earth see the kindly face of that loved parent nearly broke his tender heart.

He had been brought up under the belief that, as far as he was concerned, the seeking for a living was not a consideration which need occupy his attention. He might go in for a profession as an amusement to fill out time, or study the wool markets in London, and afterwards take up his father’s gentlemanly occupation as a squatter. Money had never hitherto troubled his young mind. A liberal allowance had been regularly paid to Dr Heardman for his use outside his school and clothing fees. Up to this date he always had the most lavishly lined purse in the school. Not being a cad, he never paraded his riches in the least. He was free and open-handed, and ready always to give without considering or remembering; but with the instincts of generations of gentlemen in his blood, he gave or lent delicately, and without allowing his right hand to know what his left hand did.

He was in consequence universally liked and respected, instead of being hated, as ostentatious givers generally are.

A bluff, offhand manner covered a very warm and tender nature, as the brown freckles covered his clear skin, until the original tints had to be guessed at. He had speckled, brown-grey eyes, a good deal resembling the colour of the iron stains so plentifully bespattered over his face. This monotony of yellow-brown gave him a bark-like appearance that did not add to his beauty at first sight.

It was a good and a brave face, however, that of Fred Weldon, in spite of its dingy tones. When he opened his mouth to laugh, he exhibited a fine set of strong white teeth that made him almost beautiful. His laugh also was a ringing and a hearty laugh, which went straight into one’s heart when heard. By-and-by also, when one began to examine his points, it was wonderful how many excellences and beauties were disclosed. Nicely shaped ears, although often skinned and roughened by the weather; well-shaped hands, although tanned by the sun; hair with a golden lustre and a sinuous waviness; delicately shaped lips; and a nose bold, fine, and straight, with nostrils sensitive as those of a well-bred horse. Fred Weldon decidedly improved on acquaintance, for he was polite, considerate, and of a singularly happy disposition.

When the evil tidings came he showed his grit and breeding by at once facing the difficulty instead of bemoaning it idly. He had no longer any expectations beyond what pocket-money he had saved, and fifty pounds which an uncle had sent him, to pay his fare, second class, out to Australia, if he cared to go.

This uncle told him kindly, but frankly, however, in his letter, that if he cared to go anywhere else for the present, it would be as well, for Australia could not hold out much-prospect for a penniless young man for some years yet to come.

His mother and sisters were provided for, as this uncle had taken them home to his station. He need, therefore, suffer no anxiety on their account. He had only himself now to consider.

It is a sad moment in the life of a boy when he loses his natural protector, even although he may step into his father’s property. This desolation becomes intensified when, besides his father, the boy loses home, and, with what makes home attractive, all certainty of the future.

Fred Weldon felt now, for the first time, that he was no longer a passenger in life’s bark, but had been forced into the position of the formerly utterly trusted and lost pilot. He had now to steer where formerly he had left that responsibility to others.

It would have been a most wretched time, those last two weeks at Shebourne Academy, for poor Fred Weldon, but for the kindly sympathy of both teachers and fellow-pupils. These made him feel that misfortune has its compensations, when it brings out these traits of kindness and friendship.

The entire school united in showing to Fred how much he was cared for daring this period of grief and uncertainty.

But his two chums, Ned Romer and Clarence Raybold, did more, for they gripped the future with firm and energetic hands, and rendered it a definite plan. As long as man or boy can map out his course with definite lines, he has something worth living for. It is the groping through a damp and dark mistland after a formless ideal which rusts the mind and saps the vital forces. As long as we can trace a path, so we can follow it; as long as we know our direction, difficulties are almost pleasures. Without his two chums, Fred might have fallen into an inert condition and given way to despair. Without this sudden calamity befalling him, those three friends might have parted on that vacation and gone different ways, to idle and dream abortive things. Now it knitted their lives together, and while they discussed his affairs, they settled their own.

Fred had received his letter on a Friday. On Saturday afternoon the three friends were lying on the banks of the river near the bathing-pool.

Fred was in the centre, lying on his back and looking at the sky. His friends reclined on each side of him, resting on their elbows, and plucking daisies and buttercups aimlessly.

That was their way of exhibiting their sympathy. They would not look at him, for they instinctively felt that he would resent being watched just now. He could not help his eyes filling now and then, as he saw pictures of his lost Australian home with his father in that upper patch of dark blue sky, but he would have hated his chums to see him crying like a girl. So also would they have despised and detested themselves for watching these signs of weakness. To cry is human, and sometimes cannot be kept under—a man will own this with shame; but it is abominable to be seen at the pitiful game, and no real friend would ever own he had seen his chum at it. This is one of the sacred obligations of man-friendship.

“I say, Raybold,” cried Ned, speaking over the silent Fred, “I’ve been thinking lately of making my exploration ground Africa. Do you intend sticking to Johannesburg when you leave here?”

“Not likely, Ned; the pater wishes me to move about and see the country before I settle down.”

“Well, what do you say to making a company affair of it?” continued Ned, cheerfully. “England, Australia, and Africa against the world.”

“I am agreeable,” replied Clarence.

“What do you say, Fred, to this partnership?”

“What partnership?” asked Fred, waking from his melancholy reverie.

“That we should go to Africa and become bona fide explorers. The company to be called the Clarfredned Company of explorers and gentlemen adventurers.”

“With the last first, of course, Ned,” added Clarence, modestly.

“Well, yes; I suppose I do know a trifle more than you pair of scientists, having a year’s advantage of you. And I haven’t the slightest objection to be your chief, on one condition.”

“And that?”

“My condition is, that I provide the first expenses.”