young leader, thought what a good fellow Frank Sedley was, and _tried_
to feel glad that he had won.

There was one of them, however, who did not think much about it after he
separated from his companions. Other considerations claimed his
attention; and before he reached his humble home, the race was banished
from his mind. He had a sick father, and the family had hard work to get
along. This was Little Paul.

His mother insisted upon sending him to school while there was anything
left to procure the necessaries of life; and as there was little for him
to do at home, he was allowed to join the club, because his parents knew
how much he loved the sports on the lake, and that nothing but good
influences would be exerted upon him in the association.

Paul Munroe was a good boy, in every sense of the word; and though he
had never been able to do much for his parents, they regarded him none
the less as one of their choicest blessings. As Tony expressed it,
Little Paul's heart was in the right place; and it was a big heart, full
of warm blood.

His father sat in an easy-chair by the kitchen stove as he entered, and
a smile played upon his pale blue lips as his eyes met the glance of his
loving son.

"Well, Paul, did you win the race?" he asked, in feeble tones.

"No, father; the Zephyrs beat. Frank Sedley rather outgeneraled Tony,
and his crew were more used to pulling than we. But Frank is a
first-rate fellow."

"Isn't Tony?"

"That he is! They are both first-rate fellows; I don't know where there
are two other such fellows in the world."

"You are right, Paul; they are good boys, and we shall be sorry to take
you away from them."

Little Paul looked inquiringly at his father. He had more than once
begged to be allowed to work in the Rippleton factories, that he might
earn something towards supporting the family; but his parents would
never consent to take him away from school and confine him in the noisy,
dusty rooms of the mills. His father's words suggested the idea that
they had consented to his request, and that he was to be allowed to work
for a living.

"'Squire Chase has been here to-day," added Mr. Munroe, sadly.

"Has he? What did he say?" asked Paul, a shade of anxiety gathering upon
his fine, manly face.

"We must leave our house, my son," replied the father, with a sigh.

"Won't he wait?"

"No."

"How did he act while he was here?"

"He was very harsh and unfeeling."

"The villain!" exc