ound so much to-morrow
afternoon," said Tom, "after his interview with his new cousin. But
hush, boys! Not a word more of this. There's Fitz coming up the
hill. I wouldn't have him suspect what's going on, or he might
defeat our plans by staying away."

CHAPTER XI.

FITZ AND HIS COUSIN.

The next morning at eight the boys began to gather in the field
beside the Seminary. They began to play ball, but took little
interest in the game, compared with the "tragedy in real life," as
Tom jocosely called it, which was expected soon to come off.

Fitz appeared upon the scene early. In fact one of the boys called
for him, and induced him to come round to school earlier than usual.
Significant glances were exchanged when he made his appearance, but
Fitz suspected nothing, and was quite unaware that he was attracting
more attention than usual.

Punctually at half-past eight, Abner Bickford with his tin-cart
appeared in the street, and with a twitch of the rein began to ascend
the Academy Hill.

"Look there," said Tom Carver, "the tin-pedler's coming up the hill.
Wonder if he expects to sell any of his wares to us boys. Do you
know him, Fitz?"

"I!" answered Fitzgerald with a scornful look, "what should I know of
a tin-pedler?"

Tom's mouth twitched, and his eyes danced with the anticipation of
fun.

By this time Mr. Bickford had brought his horse to a halt, and
jumping from his box, approached the group of boys, who suspended
their game.

"We don't want any tinware," said one of the boys, who was not in the
secret.

"Want to know! Perhaps you haven't got tin enough to pay for it.
Never mind, I'll buy you for old rags, at two cents a pound."

"He has you there, Harvey," said Tom Carver. "Can I do anything for
you, sir?"

"Is your name Fletcher?" asked Abner, not appearing to recognize Tom.

"Why, he wants you, Fitz!" said Harvey, in surprise.

"This gentleman's name is Fletcher," said Tom, placing his hand on
the shoulder of the astonished Fitzgerald.

"Not Fitz Fletcher?" said Abner, interrogatively.

"My name is Fitzgerald Fletcher," said the young Bostonian,
haughtily, "but I am at a loss to understand why you should desire to
see me."

Abner advanced with hand extended, his face lighted up with an
expansive grin.

"Why, Cousin Fitz," he said heartily, "do you mean to say you don't
know me?"

"Sir," said Fitzgerald, drawing back, "you are entirely mistaken in
the person. I don't know