nough. He
would never subject her to the added ordeal of an interview with the
stern factory owner. He would beard the lion in his den himself, if it
had to be done.

"Don't tell Ella May anything about it. It would worry her. And don't
cry, Mother, I guess it'll be all right. Let me have my dinner now and
I'll go straight off."

Dan ate his dinner rapidly; then he carefully cleaned his trout, put
them in a long basket, with rhubarb leaves over them, and started with
an assumed cheerfulness very far from his real feelings.

He had barely passed the gate when another boy came shuffling along--a
tall, raw-boned lad, with an insinuating smile and shifty, cunning
eyes. The newcomer nodded familiarly to Dan.

"Hello, sonny. Going over to the Lake with your catch, are you? You'll
fry up before you get there. There'll be nothing left of you but a
crisp."

"No, I'm not going to the Lake. I'm going up to the factory to see Mr.
Walters."

Sam French gave a long whistle of surprise.

"Why, Dan, what's taking you there? You surely ain't thinking of
trying for that place, are you? Walters wouldn't look at you. Why, he
wouldn't take _me_! You haven't the ghost of a chance."

"No, I'm not going for that. Sam, did you know that Mr. Walters had a
notice in the Lake _Advertiser_ that nobody could fish in his pond
this summer?"

"Course I did--the old skinflint! He's too mean to live, that's what.
He never goes near the pond himself. Regular dog in the manger, he is.
Dad says--"

"Sam, why didn't you tell me about that notice?"

"Gracious, didn't you know? I s'posed everybody did, and here I've
been taking you for the cutest chap this side of sunset--fishing away
up in that creek where no one could see you, and cutting home through
the woods on the sly. You don't mean to tell me you never saw that
notice?"

"No, I didn't. Do you think I'd have gone near the pond if I had? I
never saw it till today, and I'm going straight to Mr. Walters now to
tell him about it."

Sam French stopped short in the dusty road and stared at Dan in
undisguised amazement.

"Dan Phillips," he ejaculated, "have you plum gone out of your mind?
Boy alive, you needn't be afraid that I'd peach on you. I'm too blamed
glad to see anyone get the better of that old Walters, smart as he
thinks himself. Gee! To dream of going to him and telling him you've
been fishing in his pond! Why, he'll put you in jail. You don't know
what sort of a man he is. Dad