at Bartlett boy get any fish?" asked Mrs. Borden.

"Just as many as I did."

"I understand they are going to move away."

"Yes, to Albany."

"They say down to the iron works that Mr. Bangs is glad to have Mr.
Bartlett out of the place."

"I guess that is true."

"It's too bad! All of the men liked Mr. Bartlett."

"Don't they like Mr. Bangs?"

"Not a bit--so Mr. Reilly was telling my husband. They say Mr. Bangs is
mean to everybody."

Two days slipped by, and Randy was at work in the garden one afternoon
when he saw a buggy stop at the front of the cottage and a portly man
alighted. Knowing his mother was busy, our hero went to meet the
newcomer.

"Is this where Randy Thompson lives?" asked the portly gentleman.

"Yes, sir, I am Randy Thompson."

"Oh!" The gentleman held out his hand. "I am glad to know you. My name
is Andrew Shalley. You did my wife and little girl a great service the
other day."

"I only did what seemed necessary," answered Randy, modestly. "Will you
come into the house, Mr. Shalley?"

"Thanks, I'll sit down on your porch." The gentleman did so. "What are
you doing, farming?"

"A little. We got this place so late this season I cannot do a great
deal. Next year I hope to have the farm in much better shape."

"Do you like it?"

"I try to like it."

"Then you are not naturally a farmer?"

"No, sir."

"Is your father living?"

"Yes, sir; but he is laid up with rheumatism, so he cannot work at
present. He is a carpenter."

"Indeed! I was a carpenter when I was a young man."

"I thought Mrs. Shalley said you were a steamboat owner."

"I am, now. I gave up carpentering to go into the freight business. I
made money, and then bought a small freight boat. Then I branched out,
and now own a steamboat running up and down the Hudson River, and I
also own several steam tugs."

"Do you own the one that got into trouble the other day?"

"No, a friend of mine owns that--that is how my wife and little girl
happened to be on board. I am----" Mr. Shalley stopped short as a form
appeared in the doorway behind him.

"This is my mother. Mother, this is Mr. Shalley, the steamboat owner."

"I am glad to meet you," said Mrs. Thompson, politely. "Will you come
in?"

"Thank you, but it is very pleasant on the porch. Madam, you have a
good son," went on the steamboat owner.

"I know that."

"He did my wife and little girl a great service the other day."

"Yes, he told me what he did."