CHAPTER II 

DAVE PORTER'S PAST 

"What do you think of that, fellows?" asked Roger, as he concluded the reading of the letter. 

"I am not surprised," answered Dave. "Now that Merwell finds he can't show himself where he is known, he must be very bitter in mind." 

"I thought he might reform, but I guess I was mistaken," said Phil. "Say, we had better do as Buster suggests,--keep our eyes peeled for him." 

"We are not responsible for his position," retorted Roger. "He got himself into trouble." 

"So he did, Roger. But, just the same, a fellow like Link Merwell is bound to blame somebody else,--and in this case he blames us. I am afraid he'll make trouble for us--if he gets the chance," concluded Dave, seriously. 

And now, while the three chums are busy reading their letters again, let me introduce them more specifically than I have already done. 

Dave Porter was a typical American lad, now well grown, and a graduate of Oak Hall, a high-class preparatory school for boys located in one of our eastern States. 

While a mere child, Dave had been found wandering beside the railroad tracks near the little village of Crumville. He could not tell who he was, nor where he had come from, and not being claimed by any one, was taken to the local poor-house. There a broken-down college professor, Caspar Potts, had found him and given him a home. 

In Crumville resided a rich jewelry manufacturer named Oliver Wadsworth, who had a daughter named Jessie. One day the Wadsworth automobile caught fire and Jessie was in danger of being burned to death, when Dave rushed to the rescue and saved her. For this Mr. Wadsworth was very grateful, and when he learned that Dave lived with Mr. Potts, who had been one of his instructors in college, he made the man and the youth come to live with him. 
Was Dave's family looking for him?
 and not being claimed by any one