have it for fifty dollars."

"Is it gold, or only silver gilt?"

"Pure gold, my boy; but, seem' it's you, I'll let you have it for ten
dollars."

"Take your pay in clams?"

"Oh, hush! I hain't no time to gabble. Mebbe I'll git a job here, 'round
this yer wreck. If you reelly want that there grapn'I, wot'll you
gimme?"

"Five dollars, gold, take it or leave it," said Dab, pulling out a coin
from the money he had received for his bluefish.

In three minutes more "The Swallow" was furnished with a much larger and
better anchor than the one she had lost the day before; and Dick Lee
exclaimed, "It jes' takes Cap'n Kinzer!"

For some minutes before this, as the light grew clearer and the fog
lifted a little, Frank Harley had been watching them from the rail of
the "Prudhomme," and wondering if all the fisher-boys in America dressed
as well as these two.

"Hullo, you!" was the greeting which now came to his ears. "Go ashore in
my boat?"

"Not till I've eaten some of your fish for breakfast," said Frank.
"What's your name?"

"Captain Dabney Kinzer, of 'most anywhere on Long Island. What's yours?"

"Frank Harley of Rangoon."

"I declare," almost shouted Ford Foster, "if you're not the chap my
sister Annie told me of! You're going to Albany, to my uncle Joe Hart's,
ain't you?"

"Yes, to Mr. Hart's, and then to Grantley to school."

"That's it. Well, then, you can just come along with us. Get your kit
out of your state-room. We can send over to the city after the rest of
your baggage, after it gets in."

"Along with you! Where?"

"To my father's house, instead of ashore among those hotel people, and
other wreckers. The captain'll tell you it's all right."

Frank had further questions to ask before he was satisfied as to whose
hands he was about to fall into; and the whole arrangement was, no
doubt, a little irregular. So was the present position of the
"Prudhomme" herself, however; and all landing rules were a trifle out of
joint by reason of that circumstance. So the steamer authorities
listened to Frank's request when he made it, and gruffly granted it.

"The Swallow" lay quietly at her new anchor while her passenger to be
was completing his preparations to board her. Part of them consisted of
a hearty breakfast,--fresh bluefish, broiled; and while he was eating it
the crew of the yacht made a deep hole in what remained of their own
supplies. Nobody who had seen them eat would have suspected that their