objection; for, to tell
the truth, it came to them as a welcome relief.

"It's just the best arrangement that could have been made, Maria, all
around," said he. "Write at once, and tell her she may keep him as long
as she pleases."

That was very well for them, but the boys hardly felt the same way about
it. They had been planning to have "all sorts of fun with that young
missionary," in their own house. He was, as Fuz expressed it, to be "put
through a regular course of sprouts, and take the Hindu all out of him."

"Never mind, though," said Joe, after the letter came, and the decision
of their parents was declared: "we'll serve him out after we get to
Grantley. There won't be anybody to interfere with the fun."

"Well, yes," replied Fuz, "and I'd just as lief not see too much of him
before that. He won't have any special claim on us, neither, if he
doesn't go there from our house."

That was a queer sort of calculation, but it was only a beginning. They
had other talks on the same subject, and the tone of them all had in it
a promise of lively times at Grantley for the friendless young stranger
from India.

Others, however, were thinking of the future, as well as themselves; and
Joe and Fuz furnished the subject for more than one animated discussion
among the boys down there by the Long Island shore. Ford Foster gave his
two friends the full benefit of all he knew concerning his cousins.

"It's a good thing for you," he said to Frank, "that the steamer didn't
go ashore anywhere near their house. They're a pair of born young
wreckers. Just think of the tricks they played on my sister Annie!"

They were all related in Ford's most graphic style, with comments to
suit from his audience. After that conversation, however, it was
remarkable what good attention Dab Kinzer and Frank Harley paid to their
sparring-lessons. It even exceeded the pluck and perseverance with which
Dab worked at his French; and Ford was compelled to admit, to him in
particular, "You ought to have a grown-up teacher,--somebody you won't
kill if you make out to get in a hit on him. You're too long in the
reach for me, and your arms are too hard."

What between the boxing-gloves and the boat, there could be no question
but what Frank Harley had landed at the right place to get strong in.

There was plenty of fishing, bathing, riding, boating, boxing: if they
had worked day and night, they could not have used it all up. Three boys
together can