n you didn't succeed? 'Cause you are onlucky. It aint
your lot to go up hill. You might work an' scheme, an' try your level
best, till you are as old as your grandfather, but it wouldn't do you no
arthly good, whatsomever. Now, just look at your father! He's one of the
lucky ones. Every thing he touches turns to money to onct. He needn't do
no work if he don't want to. He can set back on his easy chair an' read
his paper, an' the cash comes pourin' in so fast that he has to hire a
man to take care of it. Now, I ask, Why is it? It's his lot; that's the
reason, an' he aint no better'n I be, neither. Things aint fixed right,
nohow, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin'."

Tom was not overburdened with common sense, but he was not foolish
enough to believe in Sam Barton's doctrine. He knew that it is the
industrious, prudent, and persevering who go up hill, and the lazy and
worthless who go down. He knew that his father had made many a long
voyage as a common sailor, and a good many more as captain, and worked
hard for years with hand and brain before he could "set back in his easy
chair" and read his newspaper during business hours. But he was quite
ready to agree with the governor when he said that "things were not
fixed right" in this world. Tom was quite sure they were fixed wrong. He
had tried so hard, and had been so certain of success! If his plans had
not all failed so miserably, he would have been a happy and prosperous
trader, and the owner of the finest little sloop about the village,
instead of a captain in the Crusoe band. He could not see that he had
made any mistakes in refusing to listen to the advice so often given
him. The blame rested entirely with his father.

Tom was a very unhappy boy, and the only consolation he could find was
in the thought that, by this nights work, he was severely punishing his
father. Mr. Newcombe would, of course, hear all the particulars of the
robbery, and of the attempted destruction of the yacht, and then he
would regret that he had not paid more attention to his son's wishes.
But it would be too late. The ill-used one would be miles at sea before
morning, and he would never again return to Newport as long as he lived.
Tom told himself that he was resolved upon that; but, after all, he did
go back, and perhaps we shall see how he looked when he got there.

All this while the schooner had been bounding along the south shore of
the island, headed toward the narrows. Xury was still at