ll you want."

Then Dan blazed up indeed into Irish fire.

"I don't want his pay: I wouldn't touch it. You ain't worth it, Dud
Fielding."

"Ain't worth what? My father is worth a million," said Dud quickly.

"_That_ for his million!" and Dan snapped his two fishy fingers under
Dud's Grecian nose. "You ain't worth a buffalo nickel, Dud Fielding; and I
wouldn't ask one for saving your measly little life."

And Dan went off with his lobsters, in a wrath almost fiery enough to boil
them alive. Pay!--pay for that wild plunge into watery depths--the doubt,
the fear, the icy terror of hungry monsters around him! Dud Fielding was
offering him pay for this, very much as he might fling pay to him for
blacking his boots. Ah, it was a fierce, bad moment for Dan! His beacon
light vanished; murky clouds of passion were blackening dream and vision;
he felt he could cheerfully pitch Dud back to the sharks again. And then,
as still hot and furious, he strode back with his lobsters to old Ned,
Freddy, who was remorsefully following him--remorseful at having stirred
up a row,--piped up in sudden excitement:

"O Dan, look--look what's coming here to Killykinick! Dan, just look!"

Dan turned at the cry. Past Numskull Nob, making her cautious, graceful
way through rocks and shoals, was a beautiful white-winged yacht, her mast
gay with pennants. One, fluttering wide to the breeze, showed her name,
"The Polly."

XVI.--A NEW EXPERIENCE

Dan stood staring in blank amazement, while Freddy's voice rose into
shriller triumph:

"Jim, Dud, Brother Bart, look,--look what is coming here!"

She was coming indeed, this white-winged stranger, swaying to the right
and left under skilful guidance as she made her way to the Killykinick
wharf; for her rugged old Captain knew the perils of the shore. And under
the gay awnings that shaded the deck was a merry group of young people,
waving their handkerchiefs to the rocky island they were approaching;
while Polly's big handsome "dad," in white linen yachting togs, pointed
out the ship house and the wharf, the tower and garden patch,--all the
improvements that queer old Great-uncle Joe had made on these once barren
rocks. Polly's dad had known about the old captain and his oddities all
his life. Indeed, once in his very early years as he now told his young
listeners, he had made a boyish foray in Great-uncle Joe's domain, and had
been repelled by the old sailor with a vigor never to be forgott