ger able to choke down the
lump in his throat. "I'd rather die, a good deal."

"Rather die!" exclaimed Father Regan,--"rather die than go to
Killykinick!"

"Killykinick!" echoed Dan, breathlessly. "You're not--not sending me to a
Reform, Father?"

"Reform!" repeated the priest.

"For I won't go," said Dan, desperately. "You haven't any right to put me
there. I'm not wild and bad enough for that. I'll keep honest and
respectable. I'll go to work. I can get a job at Pete Patterson's sausage
shop to-morrow."

"Reform! Sausage shop! What are you talking about, you foolish boy, when I
am only sending you all off for a summer holiday at the seashore?"

"A summer holiday at the seashore!" echoed Dan in bewilderment.

"Yes, at Freddy's place--Killykinick. I have just heard from his uncle,
and he thinks it would be a fine thing to send Freddy up there to shake
off his malaria. There's a queer old house that his great-uncle left him,
and an old sailor who still lives there to look out for things; and all
the boating, bathing, swimming, fishing a set of lively young fellows can
want; so I am going to ship you all off there to-morrow morning with
Brother Bart. It's plain you can't stand six weeks of vacation here,
especially when there will be a general retreat for the Fathers next
month. You see, I simply have to send you away."

"And you mean--you mean--" (Dan's voice trembled, his eyes shone,)--"you
mean I can come back?"

"Come back, of course, when school opens."

"Jing!" said Dan, drawing a long breath. "I--I thought you were putting me
out for good and all. I thought, with the fight and the climb and hurting
Freddy I--I had done for myself. I thought--" Here Dan's feelings became
too much for him, and he could only gulp down the sob that rose in his
throat, with a look that went to Father Regan's kind heart.

"My poor boy, no, no! Put you out of Saint Andrew's for good and all! I
never thought of such a thing for a moment. Of course I object seriously
to fighting, to your reckless venture to Old Top; but--well, you had
strong temptations, and in vacation time one must not be too severe. At
Killykinick there will be more elbow-room. Have you ever been to the
seashore?"

"Never farther than the wharfs. But I can swim and dive and float,"
answered Dan, wisely reserving the information that, as a member of the
"Wharf Rats," he had been ducked overboard at the age of six, to sink or
swim.

"Good!" said Father Reg