g incidents connected with the great meet itself, will be
recorded in the next story of this series, to be called: "Fred Fenton
on the Track; Or, The Athletics of Riverport School."

Of course the Fentons were looking eagerly forward to the time when
Hiram Masterson would redeem his promise to return and testify against
the overbearing syndicate that was endeavoring to get possession of
that rich Alaska mine, which had once belonged to Fred's uncle.

Days might pass, but each one meant in all probability that the missing
witness, abducted by orders of the powerful combination of capitalists,
was drawing closer; and every night on his return home Mr. Fenton fully
expected to find the man from Alaska sitting at the table awaiting his
coming.

True, he seemed to have so much knowledge of the almost unlimited
powers of he syndicate, with which Squire Lemington was connected in
some way, that Hiram had declared his intention of coming in some sort
of disguise, so that he could give his evidence under oath before his
unscrupulous uncle even knew that he was on this side of the ocean.

And so, on the whole, those summer days were times of almost unlimited
pleasure to Fred Fenton. After his unsuccessful attempt to burn the
racing boat of the Riverport schoolboys, Buck Lemington had remained a
long time quiet. Possibly he feared that his crony, Conrad Jimmerson,
when he was caught in Colon's quaint trap, might have told something of
the truth before his mouth was closed by hearing that threatening
signal outside. And Buck was waiting now to learn if anything was about
to be done, in order to bring him to punishment.

Of course such a nature as his could not remain very quiet for any
great length of time; and as the days grew into weeks doubtless his
resentment toward Fred would once more become hot.

Then there would be more exciting times; for when Buck really worked
himself up to a certain pitch, things were apt to happen.

The boys and girls of Riverport always did manage to have a good time
during the summer holidays. True, there could be no singing school, and
dances in the barn, such as winter brought along in its train; no
skating on the river, sleighing over country roads with a pretty girl
alongside, and the merry chime of bells in the air; but then picnics
were held every little while; and as for the group of boys who somehow
looked upon Fred as a sort of leader, there was hardly a weekday during
the entire vaca