he cottage.

Of course no sane boy of sixteen would think of pronouncing the three
syllables of the name of one of his cronies; and Leopold, in his
undignified intercourse with his companions, was known only by the
abbreviated name of "Le."

"Come, Stumpy, tumble out," replied Leopold. "Bear a hand, lively, and
don't wait for your breakfast. I have grub enough to keep us for a
week."

"I'm all ready," replied Stumpy; "I was up when you whistled."

Early as it was in the morning, Stumpy seemed to be very cheerful,
perhaps made so by the remark about "grub" which Leopold had used, for
the boy of the cottage knew by experience that the provender which came
from the hotel was superior to that of the larder of his own dwelling.

The two "early birds" walked rapidly towards the river, not because they
were in a hurry, but because they were excited. The excursion upon which
they had now embarked had been duly talked over the night before, and
Stumpy, though his interest in the venture was small compared with that
of his companion, was hardly less hopeful.

They descended the steep path on the bank of the river, and in a few
moments more the dingy old boat with the patched and ragged sail was
standing out towards the open bay. The wind in the river was very light,
and the old craft was a heavy sailor, so that her progress was very
slow; but the tongues of the two boys moved fast enough to make up for
the deficiencies of the boat. Their conversation was about the prospect
of catching a fare of mackerel, though Harvey Barth and his diary came
in for some comments.

Stumpy was Leopold's dearest friend and most intimate companion. The
friendship had commenced in school, which both of them continued to
attend in the winter. It had its origin in no especial event, for
neither had conferred any particular favor on the other. Like many
another intimacy, it grew out of the fancy of the friends. Both of them
were "good fellows," and they liked each other. This is all the
explanation which their friendship requires. Stumpy was the oldest son
of a widow, who managed with his assistance, to support her family of
three children. Socially there was no difference in their standing. If
the landlord of the Cliff House was a person of some consequence, on the
one hand, Stumpy's grandfather, on the other, was one of the wealthiest
and most distinguished citizens of Rockhaven, and the boy would probably
inherit a portion of his property whe