used to clearing up things for
Polly. "Probably you are looking for Colonel Foster, who came down last
week," she continued, turning a smiling face to Dan. "They have rented the
Pelham cottage for the summer. You know where that is, Polly?"

"Oh, yes!" answered the little lady, cheerfully. "You take care of Bobby,
mamma, and I'll show Dan the short cut through our garden."

And she darted ahead through an old-fashioned maze, where tall box hedges
were clipped into queer shapes around beds of gay blooming flowers. Then,
swinging open a vine-wreathed gate, Dan's little guide led into a steep
narrow way paved with cobblestones.

"Pelham cottage is just up there," she said, "at the top of Larboard
Lane."

"And here the boys come now!" exclaimed Dan, as the sound of familiar
voices reached his ear, and down the lane came a laughing, chattering
group,--Minna Foster, and her sister Madge and brother Jack gleefully
escorting Jim and Dud back to the boat, and claiming the promises of
speedy return to Beach Cliff.

Dan hailed his schoolmates, explained his search and his mistake, and they
were all taking their way down the stony path together,--Polly being of
the sort to make friends at once with every nice boy or girl within
reach.

"Isn't she the cutest thing?" said Minna Foster, who had fallen behind
with Dud. "We have just been dying to know them; but her mother is an
invalid, and doesn't go out much, though they are the finest people in
Beach Cliff, mamma says. They have lots of money, and the loveliest old
home filled with all sorts of beautiful things, and horses and carriages
and a big yacht."

"And Dan Dolan has struck it with them," said Dud, watching Miss Polly's
dancing along loyally by her nice boy's side. "Dan Dolan! Can't you give
them a tip about him."

"A tip?" echoed Minna, puzzled.

"Yes," said Dud, his brow darkening. "People like that don't want to know
such low-down chumps as Dan Dolan. Why, he's in St. Andrew's on charity;
hasn't got a decent rag to his back except what we give him there; used to
shine shoes and sell papers on the streets. His aunt is in the poorhouse
or something next to it; he's just a common tough, without a cent to call
his own."

"Goodness!" gasped Miss Minna. "Then what is he doing up here with boys
like you?"

"Pushed in," answered Dud, hotly. "He has enough nerve to push anywhere.
St. Andrew's gives a scholarship at the parochial school, and he won it;
and, as he had