"

I do not mean all; for two members of the Zephyr Club had wandered away
from the rest of the party to the north side of the island. They were
concealed from view by a large rock; but if any one had observed them,
he could not have failed to see that they were exceptions to the general
rule--that they were not happy. The two boys were Charles Hardy and Tim
Bunker. Frank had been pained to notice that an unnatural intimacy had
been growing up between them for several days; and he had already begun
to fear that it was in the heart of Tim to lead his weak-minded
associate astray.

"Now, let's see how much there is in it," said Tim.

"I am afraid to open it," replied Charles, as he glanced nervously over
the rocks.

"Git out!"

"I am doing wrong, Tim; I feel it here." And Charles placed his hand
upon his heart.

"Humph!" sneered Tim. "Give it to me, and I will open it."

"We ought not to open it," replied Charles, putting his hand into his
pocket, and again glancing over the top of the rocks. "Besides, Tim, you
promised to be a good boy when we let you into the club."

"I mean to have a good time. We might have had if you fellows hadn't
given away all that money."

"I didn't do it."

"I know you didn't, but the rest on 'em did; so it's all the same. They
are a set of canting pups, and for my part I'm tired on 'em. Frank
Sedley don't lord it over me much longer, you better believe! And you
are a fool if you let him snub you as he does every day."

"I don't mean to," answered Charles. "I believe the fellows all hate me,
or they would have made me coxswain before this time."

"Of course they would. They hate you, Charley: I heard Frank Sedley say
as much as that the other day."

"He did?"

"Of course he did."

"I wouldn't have thought that of him," said Charles, his eye kindling
with anger.

"Let's have the purse, Charley."

Charles hesitated; but the struggle was soon over in his bosom, and he
took from his pocket a silken purse and handed it to Tim.

"We are doing wrong, Tim," said he, as a twinge of conscience brought to
his mind a realizing sense of his position. "Give me back the purse, and
I will try to find the owner."

"No, you don't!" replied Tim, as he opened one end of the purse and took
therefrom a roll of bank bills, which he proceeded to count.

"Do give it back to me! I am sure the owner has missed it by this time."

"No matter if he has; he won't get it again in a hurry," answered