a tiny engine. Besides, lad, as I understand, the
'Water Lily' doesn't wholly depend upon steam for her 'power.'
She--but you'll find out in two minutes of inspection more than I can
suggest in an hour. If you take the seven-thirty train to New York,
to-morrow morning, you can reach Baltimore by three in the afternoon,
easily enough. 'James Barlow. Been given house-boat. You're engineer.
Be Union Station, three, Wednesday.' Signed: 'Dorothy.'"

This was the short dispatch which Mr. Winters now re-read, aloud, with
the comment:

"The child is learning to condense. She's got this message down to the
regulation ten-words-for-a-quarter."

Then he crossed to the bookcase and began to select certain volumes
from its shelves, while Jim watched eagerly, almost hungrily. One
after another, these were the beloved books whose contents he had
hoped to master during the weeks to come. To see them now from the
outside only was fresh disappointment and he rose to leave, saying:

"Well, if I must I must an' no bones about it. I wouldn't stir hand
nor foot, 'cept it's Mrs. Calvert and----"

"Don't leave out Dolly Doodles, boy! She was your first friend among
us all, and your first little teacher in the art of spelling. Oh! I
know. Of course, such a boy as you would have learned, anyway, but
'Praise the bridge that carries you safe over.' Dorothy was the first
'bridge' between you and these volumes, in those far-back days when
you both picked strawberries on Miranda Stott's truck-farm. There. I
think these will be all you can do justice to before you come back.
There's an old 'telescope' satchel of mine in the inner closet that
will hold them nicely. Fetch it and be off with you."

"Those--why, those are your own best beloved books! Would you trust
them with me away from home? Will they be of any use on a house-boat?"

"Yes, yes, you 'doubting Thomas.' Now--how much money have you on
hand?"

"Ten dollars. I'd saved it for a lexicon and some--some other things."

"This bulky fellow is a lexicon I used in my youth; and since Latin is
a 'dead language' it's as much alive and as helpful now as ever. That
book is my parting gift to you; and ten dollars is sufficient for your
fare and a day's needs. Good-bye."

All the time he had been talking Mr. Winters had been deftly packing
the calf-bound volumes in the shabby "telescope," and now strapped it
securely. Then he held out his hand with a cheerful smile lighting
his fine face, an