hat shall we do this afternoon?” asked james, as they rose from the dinner-table.

“suppose we go out rowing?” said edwin.

“i should like that,” said tom eagerly.

“can you row?” asked james.

“i can keep up my side of the boat,” said tom.

“very well, we’ll go, then,” said james. “come along, fellows.”

half a mile from the lawyer’s house was a river, narrow but with a swift current. thither the boys directed their steps. under a tree a round-bottomed boat of fair size was padlocked.

“the boat belongs to me,” said james complacently. “it was a birthday present.”

“it looks like a good one. let us get in,” said tom.

they unlocked the boat and pushed off.

“you can steer,” said james, “and edwin and i will row.”

“just as you please,” said tom. “you own the boat.”

he would have preferred to row, but was willing to wait till one of the boys got tired and yielded the oars. he seated himself therefore in the end of the boat and steered.

“i am not used to the river,” said tom, “and you must tell me if i steer wrong.”

they had the current in their favor, and the boat went merrily onward, easily impelled by the two boys, who were evidently pleased with their speed.

“it’ll be rather different rowing back,” said tom.

“oh, we can manage it,” said james, with an air of consequence. “we are used to rowing.”

“the current will be against you.”

“we can manage,” said james confidently.

a little later they were startled by a loud scream. a boy of six had tumbled into the river while playing on the bank, and though it was shallow, was in danger of drowning.

tom was the first to perceive his danger.

“row to the shore, quick!” he shouted. “a boy is drowning.”

he turned the rudder, and james and his cousin mechanically obeyed. tom reached over and grasped the urchin by his arm and deposited him in the bottom of the boat.

it was a young irish boy, dirty-faced and in rags, and dripping, of course, from his recent immersion.

james surveyed him with evident disgust.

“the dirty brat will wet the boat and make it unfit for us to stay in,” he said.

“do you want me to pitch him into the water again?” asked tom coolly.

“‘row to the shore, quick!’ tom shouted. ‘a boy is drowning.’”

“no,” said james slowly. “of course i don’t want him to drown, but i don’t enjoy taking in one of the lower order as a passenger. we’d better put him on shore.”

“so i think,” said edwin. “the little beggar will be better off there.”

“i don’t think so,” said tom. “do you see how the little chap is shivering? he’ll catch his death of cold if he doesn’t change his wet clothes soon. what is your name, my little boy?”

“jimmy grady,” said the boy, his teeth chattering.

“he’s got your name, james,” said tom slyly. “he’s your namesake.”

“don’t associate me with him,” said james loftily.

“of course it’s very impudent for him to have the same name,” said tom smiling. “perhaps he’ll change it. where do you live, jimmy?”

“there,” said the boy, pointing to a small, unpainted dwelling further up the river, and about twenty rods from the bank.

“turn back,” said tom, “we’ll carry him home.”

“i don’t choose to trouble myself about such a beggar as that,” said james. “we’ll go on, and on our way back we’ll land him.”

“and let him die of exposure?” said tom sternly.

“oh, such beggars are tough,” said james, in a tone quite destitute of feeling. “row away, edwin.”

“i forbid it!” said tom, with startling emphasis. “reverse your stroke. we are going back.”

at the same time he changed the course of the boat as far as he was able by turning the rudder.

james davenport flushed. he was accustomed to have his own way and he didn’t relish dictation.

“the boat is mine,” said he, doggedly. “we won’t turn back!”

“turn back instantly, or i’ll throw you overboard,” said tom, in a determined tone.

“i haven’t got to obey you,” said james angrily.

tom sprung from his seat, grasped james by the shoulder, and repeated his command. there was something in our hero’s look when he was fairly aroused that showed that he was not to be trifled with. james thought of his encounter the day before, and he was by no means sure that tom would not carry out his threat.

“will you do it or not?” demanded tom.

“if you’re so very anxious, i’ll do it,” said james, backing down. “you make more fuss about the little chap than he deserves.”

“his life is worth as much to him as ours is to us,” said tom, resuming his seat. “when i have restored him to his home, i will go up or down, as you choose.”

rather mortified at his defeat, and indignant also, james sullenly rowed to the shore at the point opposite little jimmy’s humble home. his mother was on the bank, looking anxiously for her lost boy.

“it’s me, mother,” said jimmy, his tear-begrimed face lighting up with joy.

“we’ve got jimmy safe, mrs. grady,” called out tom, cheerfully. “he tumbled into the river, and is wet through. you’d better take off his wet clothes, or he’ll get cold.”

“the saints be praised!” exclaimed the poor woman, fervently. “i thought the poor boy was drowned. i’m sure i’m very thankful to you, young gentlemen, for taking so much trouble with a poor woman’s boy. how could you run away so, jimmy, darlint?”

“i didn’t mane to tumble in,” said jimmy, as tom helped him over the side into his mother’s arms.

“thank you kindly, gentlemen,” said mrs. grady, repeating her thanks, but only tom responded.

the other two regarded the poor woman scornfully.

“thank heaven! we’ve got rid of that beggar,” said james. “i don’t mean to let one into my boat again. i shall have to have it washed out.”

“whenever either of you gets tired, i’ll row,” said tom.

“i’m tired,” said edwin. “it’s hard rowing up stream!”

“against the current. i told you it would be. i’ll take your place.”

they changed places, and tom begun to ply his oar. james soon found out that our hero had not only rowed before, but that he was very strong and dexterous, and considerably more than a match for him, even if he had not been tired. he would have been glad to have been relieved himself, but was too proud to own that he was fatigued.

“shall we go up or down?” asked tom.

“i don’t appear to have much to say about it,” said james unpleasantly. “you appear to control the boat.”

“come, james, don’t bear malice,” said tom pleasantly. “i wouldn’t have interfered, except to save jimmy a fit of sickness. i knew you didn’t realize the danger of his going a long time with wet clothing. now i am ready to receive your commands. up or down?”

“we’d better go home,” said edwin. “it’ll be hard getting there as it is, against the current.”

“home then,” said james, his pride somewhat soothed by tom’s leaving the matter to him.

presently tom, seeing that his companions lagged in rowing, said:

“if you are tired, james, i’ll take both oars for a little while.”

“i don’t believe you can.”

“oh, i’m used to it.”

“try it then,” said james, glad of a respite; “i am not much tired, but i’d like to see how you will make out.”

tom took both oars and used them vigorously. he found his task a difficult one, but he kept up single-handed for a mile, when edwin came to his assistance.

they were all glad to reach the starting-point. jumping out, james secured the boat.

“now we’ll go home,” he said.

“we’ve had a bully row,” said tom, “though it was rather a hard pull back. it’s lucky for jimmy that we went back.”

“it would have served the little beggar right if he’d drowned,” muttered james.

“i’m glad he didn’t, though,” said tom.

“small loss if he had,” muttered the lawyer’s son.

“perhaps some might say so of us,” said tom.

“i hope you don’t compare me with that low boy,” said james scornfully.

“i dare say his mother wouldn’t exchange one jimmy for another,” remarked tom jokingly.

“she’s welcome to the brat,” said james loftily. “i have nothing in common with such people.”