rs. He was resolute in his purpose
to dispose of the Juno, lest the possession of her should demoralize
him, and interfere with his attention to business.

It was plain enough to Donald that he must sell the Juno, though it was
not as clear that Laud Cavendish could buy her; but he decided to see
him, and, launching his tender, he pulled out for the Juno. While he was
plying his oars, it suddenly came across the mind of the young
boat-builder that he could not sell this boat without exposing his
relations to Captain Shivernock. He was rather startled by the thought,
but, before he had followed it out to a conclusion, the tender was
alongside the Juno.

"How are you, Don John?" said Laud. "I thought I would come down and
look over the Juno."

"She is a first-rate boat," replied Donald.

"And the captain wants to sell her?"

"She's for sale," replied her owner.

"What's the price of her?"

"Four hundred."

"That's too steep, Don John. It is of no use for me to look at her if
the captain won't sell her for less than that."

"Say three fifty, then," replied Donald.

"Say three hundred."

"She is worth more money," continued the owner, as he unlocked the
cuddy. "She has a fine cabin, fitted up like a parlor. Go in and look
round."

Donald led the way, and pointed out all the conveniences of the cabin,
eloquently setting forth the qualities of the boat and her
accommodations.

"I'll give three hundred for her," said Laud.

"She is worth more than that," replied Donald. "Why, she cost the
captain over five hundred; and I wouldn't build her for a mill less than
that."

"You?" laughed Laud.

"I'm building a yacht thirty feet long for Sam Rodman; and I'm to have
twelve hundred for her," answered Donald, struggling to be modest.

"You are some punkins--ain't you, Don John?"

"I can't quite come up to you, Mr. Cavendish."

"Perhaps you will when you are as old as I am."

"Possibly; but it's a big height to reach in two years. A man of your
size ought not to haggle for fifty dollars on a boat."

"I can't afford to give more than three hundred for the Juno," protested
Laud, very decidedly.

"Can you afford to give that?" asked Donald, with a smile.

Laud looked at him sharply, and seemed to be somewhat embarrassed.

"I suppose I can't really afford it; but what's life for? We can't live
it over again, and we ought to make the best of it. Don't you think so?"

"Certainly--the best of it; but there may