education than
he will ever know what to do with, but then, this Dick Lee, and you
boys,--well, see what you can do, but no one must be allowed to
contribute outside of the Foster and Kinzer families and Frank. As for
the rest, hem,--ah, I think I'll say there wont be any difficulty."

"You, father?"

"Why not, Annie? Do you s'pose I'm going to be beaten by a mere country
boy like Dab Kinzer?"

"Father," said Ford, "if you'd seen how Dick behaved, that night, out
there on the ocean, in the 'Swallow!'"

"Just as well, just as well, my son!"

"Hurrah!" shouted Ford, "then it's all right, and Dick Lee'll have a
fair shake in the world."

"A what, my son?" exclaimed his mother.

"I didn't mean to talk slang, mother, I only meant,--well, you know how
dreadfully black he is, but then he can steer a boat tip-top, and he's
splendid for crabs and blue-fish, and Dab says he's a good scholar,
too."

"Dab's a very good boy," said Mrs. Foster, "but your friend Dick will
need an outfit, I imagine. Clothes and almost everything. I must see
Mrs. Kinzer about it."

Meantime Dick Lee's part in the matter had been taken for granted all
around. An hour later, however, Mrs. Kinzer's first reply to her son,
after a calculation on his part which made it almost seem as if Dick
would make money by going to Grantley, was: "What if Mrs. Lee says she
can't spare him?"

Dab's countenance fell. He knew Mrs. Lee, but he had not thought so far
as that.

"Well, Dabney, if we can make the other arrangements, I'll see her about
it."

Ham Morris had been exchanging remarkable winks with Miranda and
Samantha, and now gravely suggested: "May be the academy authorities
will refuse to take him."

"They had a blacker boy than he is there last year, Ford says."

"Now, Dab," exclaimed Ham.

"Well, I know he's pretty black, but it don't come off."

"Mother," said Samantha, "Mrs. Foster and Annie are coming through the
gate."

Dab just waited long enough, after that, to learn the news concerning
the "Richard Lee Education Fund," and Mr. Foster's offer, and then he
was off toward the shore. He knew very well in which direction to go,
for, half-way to the landing, he met Dick coming up the road with a
basket of eels on his arm.

"Dick, I'm going to boarding-school, at an academy."

"Cad'my? Whar?"

"Up in New England. They call it Grantley Academy. Where Ford and Frank
are going."

"Dat spiles it all," exclaimed Dick, ruefully. "Now I