"Not a bit of it," said Sandboys. "Robbed! An' then it all came to me. That old last of the Pemicans had spoke several times about her hair to me, an' I could see he was kind of thirsty for it, an' I made up my mind to two things. First was, Miss Conneticut's hair was nothin' but a wig; and second, old Rocky Face had it. I stole into his room that night when he was at supper and opened his trunk. Will you believe it, it was full o' false hair, an' in an old hat-box in one corner was the beautiful yeller locks of Miss Conneticut. That feller'd scalped enough bureaus to fill three good-sized mattresses." "As much as that?" cried Jack. "Hyop!" said Sandboys. "Most o' the ladies didn't like to mention it, but there was hardly one of 'em that hadn't lost two or three headsful to that old sinner, and I found it out. Of course I told the proprietor, and the hair was restored to its owners. Miss Conneticut appeared again, more popular than ever, and old Rocky Face was sent to jail, and he's never come out as I know of." "Well, that is a singular story," said Bob. "Isn't it," said Jack. "I should think Miss Conneticut ought to have been very much obliged to you." "She was," replied Sandboys. "She gave me twenty-five dollars--five for findin' the wig, and twenty for keepin' quiet about it around the hotel. That's one reason I can't remember her real name." THE BOY WRECKERS. BY W. O. STODDARD. CHAPTER IV. "Whoop! Bully!" That shout came from the wreckers, within fifty yards, just as Pete got the hook of the Captain's "gaff" into the gills of the bass, and Kroom himself hoisted the prize on board. Every ounce of their suspicion was gone in a moment, and the cat-boat tacked away; but just then Sam said, in a very low voice: "There's that white thing, if it's a life-preserver. It's got stuck again." In the other boat there was trouble. All the men noticed the _Elephant_ with her extra passenger, now that she was near enough; and suddenly the man at the helm stood up and said: "Captain Kroom did go to the wreck. I saw that big feller that's with him. He was on the _Goshawk_ when the tug left her. We'd better watch Kroom and see if he's gropplin' on his own account. We can't do or say a thing unless we can pick up what was thrown over." "Thrue for ye," replied the man next him. "Thin the inlet's the place to wait for thim. We can luk into his boat, sure." "I'll tell you what, boys," said the steersman, "those fellers threw over more'll we know of. They'll come back for every pound of it, but we can beat 'em." It looked as if their view of the matter was just as Captain Kroom had said. They had not the slightest idea but what it was entirely honest to do what they were attempting. Does not anything that drifts ashore belong to the land it is stranded on?