er's face fell, and he closed the dirty ledger with a slam.

"All right, Ralph, suit yourself. But if you starve to death, don't lay it
at my door, mind that!"

"No fear of my starving," returned the boy, lightly, and he left the store.

Uriah watched him from behind the dirty windows of his place. He heaved a
big sigh as he saw Ralph enter the opposition store just across the way,
and groaned aloud when the youth came out with half-a-dozen packages under
his arm, and started for home.

"I guess I put my foot into it when I sided with the squire," he meditated.
"But it had to be done. Anyway, the squire's trade is bigger than the
Nelsons', so I'm better off than I might be," and, thus consoling himself,
he went back to his accounts.

To Uriah Dicks all such matters were questions of dollars and cents, not of
justice.

When Ralph arrived home, he told his mother of the storekeeper's offer.

"Do you think I did wrong in refusing?" he asked.

"No, Ralph; I would have done the same."

"I fancy I can strike a job that will pay better--anyway, I am going to
try."

Sunday of the week passed quietly enough, and on Monday morning Ralph
brushed up his every-day clothes, took along the lunch his mother put up
for him, and left the cottage to try his luck among the stores and
factories in Eastport.

"Don't be alarmed if I am not home until night, mother," he said. "I may
strike a situation in which they wish me at once."

"All right, Ralph," she returned. "Good luck to you."

But Ralph did not get to Eastport that day. As he was crossing the bridge a
young man on a small sailboat hailed him. It was Roy Parkhurst, a fellow
Ralph knew well.

"Hallo, Ralph!" he called out. "The job on the bridge and you have parted
company, I am told."

"Yes, Roy."

"Doing anything to-day?"

"No, I was just bound for Eastport to look for work."

"Then you are just the fellow I am looking for," said Parkhurst.

"What for?"

"I want to sail down to Martinton and have this boat taken back here. If
you'll undertake the job I'll give you a dollar."

"I'll go you," returned Ralph promptly. "I can put off looking for another
situation until to-morrow."

"Then jump in."

Parkhurst ran his boat close to the bridge, and Ralph sprang down on one
of the seats. Soon the two were moving down Silver Lake at all the speed
the little craft commanded.

It was a splendid day, with a stiff breeze blowing, and by noon Martinton
was reached.