t bore the postmark of San Francisco, and ran as
follows:

DEAR PERCY,--Stick to it.

Affectionately,

JOHN P. WHITTINGTON.

It actually surprised Percy to find out how glad he was to receive this
laconic epistle from his only living relative. He cast about for a
suitable reply.

"I want to send something that'll please him," he thought. "He hasn't
had much satisfaction, so far, out of me."

Finally, after mature deliberation, he indited the following:

DEAR DAD,--I'm sticking.

Your affectionate son,

PERCY.

_The Three Musketeers_ gathered dust on the wooden shelf. Percy had
faced squarely the fact of his college conditions, and had determined
that they must be made up at the opening of the fall term; so his spare
time went into Virgil and Caesar and algebra and geometry, instead of
being spent on Dumas. He rarely asked for assistance from the others;
they had little leisure, and it was his own fight. He buckled down
manfully.

Another task that he set before himself was the establishment of cordial
relations with the other members of the party. He realized that his own
fault had made this necessary. It had been an easy matter to get on good
terms with Jim, Budge, and Throppy. With Filippo it was a little harder;
but soon he, too, thawed out when he found that Percy treated him
courteously and was willing to do his share of the camp work. Even Nemo
wagged his tail when Percy appeared, and the crow grew tame enough to
eat fish out of his hand.

One afternoon, when the fog had lifted sufficiently to make it possible
to see a few hundred feet from the island, a motor-boat unexpectedly
appeared from the north and swung round Brimstone Point into the cove.
She ran up alongside the _Barracouta_, where the boys were baiting their
trawl.

"I'm the warden," said one of the two newcomers, a gray-mustached,
keen-eyed man. "I've come to look over your car."

Jim took his dip-net and stepped into the motor-boat, and they ran up to
the lobster-car. A few minutes' investigation of its contents satisfied
the official that it contained no "shorts."

"Glad to be able to give you a clean bill of health," said he as he set
Jim back on board the sloop. "I wish some other people I know of did
business as clean and aboveboard as you young fellows."

A quarter-hour later the sound of his exhaust had died away in the fog
to the northward.

"What would he have done if he'd found any 'shorts'?" as