When they reached the landing, and began to over-haul their very brilliant "catch," Dabney said,--

"Now, d.i.c.k, take your string home, leave that basket of crabs at Mr.

Foster's, and then come back with the basket, and carry the rest of 'em to our house. Ford and I'll see to the rest of the fish."

"I haven't caught half as many as you have, either of you," said Ford, when he saw with what even-handed justice the fish were divided in three piles, as they were scooped out of the fish-car.

"What of that?" replied Dab. "We follow fishermen's rules, down this way. Share and share alike, you know. All the luck is outside the boat, they say. Once the fish are landed, your luck's as good as mine."

"Do they always follow that rule?"

"The man that broke it wouldn't find company very easily, hereabouts, next time he wanted to go a-fishing. No, nor for any thing else.

n.o.body'd boat with him."

"Well, if it's the regular thing," said Ford hesitatingly. "But I'll tell who really caught 'em."

"Oh, some of yours are right good ones! Your string'd look big enough, some days, just as you caught 'em."

"Would it?"

"Yes, it would. Don't you imagine we can pull 'em in every time like we did this morning,--crabs nor fish."

"No, I s'pose not. Anyhow, I've learned some things."

"I guess likely. We'll go for some more next week. Now for a tug."

"Ain't they heavy, though!"

The boat had already been made fast; and the two boys picked up their strings of fish, two for each, after d.i.c.k Lee had started for home; and heavy things they were to carry under that hot sun.

"Come and show the whole lot to my mother," said Ford, "before you take yours into the house. I'd like to have her see them all."

"All right," replied Dab, but he little dreamed what was coming; for, when he and Ford marched proudly into the sitting-room with their finny prizes, Dabney found himself face to face with, not good, sweet-voiced Mrs. Foster, but, as he thought, the most beautiful young lady he had ever seen.

Ford Foster shouted, "Annie! You here? Well, I never!"

But Dab Kinzer wished all those fish safely back again swimming in the bay.

CHAPTER IX.

THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS OF BOYS.

Ham Morris was a thoughtful and kind-hearted fellow, beyond a doubt; and he was likely to be a valuable friend for a growing boy like Dab Kinzer.

It is not everybody's brother-in-law who would find time during his wedding-trip to hunt up even so pretty a New-England village as Grantley, and inquire into questions of board and lodging and schooling.

That was precisely what Ham did, however; and Miranda went with him of course.

Mrs. Myers, to the hospitalities of whose cool and roomy-looking house he had been commended by Mr. Hart, was so "crowded full with summer boarders," liberally advertised for in the great city, that she had hardly a corner left in which to stow away Ham and his bride, for even one night. She was glad enough, however, that she had made the effort, and found one, after she discovered the nature of the stranger's errand in Grantley, and that it included "winter board" for a whole boy.

There was a look of undisguised astonishment on the faces of the regular guests when they gathered for the next meal. It happened to be supper, but they all looked at the table and then at one another. It was a pity Ham and Miranda did not understand the meaning of those glances, or else that they did not make a longer stay with Mrs. Myers. They might have learned more about her and her boarding-house, if not about the academy.

As it was, they only gathered a very high opinion of her cookery and hospitality, as well as an increase of respect for the "inst.i.tution of learning," and for that excellent gentleman Mr. Hart; with a dim hope that Dabney Kinzer might be permitted to enjoy the inestimable advantages offered by Grantley and Mrs. Myers, and the society of Mr.

Hart's two wonderful boys.

Miranda was inclined to stand up for her brother somewhat, but finally agreed with Ham, that,--

"What Dabney needs is schooling and polish, my dear. It'll be good for him to board in the same house with two such complete young gentlemen as the Hart boys."

"Of course, Ham. And then, too, we'll feel sure of his having plenty to eat. There was almost too much on the table."

"Not if the boarders had all been boys of Dab's age, and with his appet.i.te. Mrs. Myers is evidently accustomed to provide for them, I should say."

So she was; and Ham and Miranda left Grantley next morning, after a very early breakfast; and, when the regular boarders came to theirs, they might have guessed at once that the "transient guests" had gone. They even guessed it out loud at dinner and at supper.

Mrs. Myers had given Ham and his bride a world of interesting information about Grantley, and the things and people in it; but there was one thing she had forgotten or neglected to mention. She had failed to tell them that the house she lived in, and the outlying farm belonging to it, and nearly all the house-hold effects it contained, were the property of Mr. Joseph Hart, having cost that gentleman very little more than a sharp lawsuit. Neither did she say a word about how long a time he had given her to pay him his price for it. All that was her own private affair, and none of Ham's business, or Miranda's. Still, it might have had its importance in their minds, if they had been informed of it.

Perhaps, too, some of their rosy impressions might have been a little modified if they could have been at the breakfast-table of the Hart homestead the morning after Annie Foster's sudden departure.

The table, truly, was there, as usual, with the breakfast-things on it, and there were husband and wife at either end; but the two side seats were vacant.

"Where are Joe and Foster, Maria?" asked Mr. Hart.

"I'm sure they're up, father. I heard them come down stairs an hour ago."

"I can't wait for them"--

"You came home late last night, and they haven't seen you since Annie went away." There had been a suppressed sound of whispers in the entry, and the door had been held open about half an inch by some hand on the other side. It is possible, therefore, that Mr. Hart's reply was heard outside.

"Oh, I see! it's about Annie. Look here, Maria: they may have gone a little too far, but if Annie can't take a joke"--

"So I tried to say to her," began his wife; but at that instant the whispers in the entry swelled suddenly to loud voices, and two boys came noisily in, and filled the side chairs at the table.

"Sit down, my dears," said Mrs. Hart, with an admiring glance from one to the other. "I have told your father about the sad trick you played upon your cousin."

"Yes, you young rogues," added Mr. Hart, with affected sternness: "you have driven her out of the house."

"Joe," said the boy on the left, to his brother across the table, "ain't you glad she's gone?"

"You bet I am. She's too stiff and steep for me. Spoiled all the fun we had."

"And so you spoiled her cuffs and collars for her. It was too bad altogether. I'm afraid there won't be much comfort for anybody in this house till you two get back to Grantley."

"Fuz," said Joe, "do you hear that? They're going to give us another term at Grantley."

"I don't care how soon we go, so we haven't got to board at old mother Myers's."