"I like to go with Frank," he said. "Sorry to have you leave, Filippo," returned Jim. "But I know just how you feel, and I don't blame you a bit." He called Stevens and Lane aside. Presently the latter went into the cabin and reappeared with a roll of bills. Jim handed them to the Italian. "Here's one hundred dollars, Filippo, your share for your summer's work. You've earned it fairly. If there's anything more coming to you, after we figure up, I'll send it on. What will your address be? We hope to see you again some time." Filippo was overcome. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he stammered his thanks. It was arranged that letters in the care of the Italian consul at Boston would always be forwarded to him. Jim and Throppy took the departing party over to Matinicus on the _Barracouta_, getting them there in ample time for the Rockland steamer. The sloop was back at Tarpaulin by four o'clock. Meanwhile John P. Whittington had started on his vacation. Though his time ran into thousands of dollars a week, he felt he could profitably spend a little of it in getting acquainted with his boy. One of the first things his keen eyes noted was the absence of the cigarettes. "Knocked off, eh, Percy? For how long?" "For good, Dad!" The millionaire suppressed a whistle; something had certainly struck Percy. The next morning, his sturdy figure garbed in oilskins, he started out with his son and Jim for Clay Bank. He had to acknowledge that rising at midnight was a little early, even for a man accustomed to work as hard as he had always done. Out on the shoal he was a silent but interested spectator while the trawl was being pulled and the fish taken aboard. An old swell was running, and he speedily discovered that seasickness was another thing his will could not master. That afternoon he watched Percy skilfully handle the splitting-knife and later do his part in baiting the trawl. On the morning following he went out lobstering, and found as much to interest him as on the day before. Everything was new to him. He discovered that even a man experienced in big business can learn some things from boys. Soon his sleep at night was as sound as his son's. He made a trip to Matinicus in the _Barracouta_, and talked prices with the superintendent of the fish-wharf and the proprietor of the general store. "Have a bottle of lemon, Dad?" invited Percy. Mr. Whittington was on the point of refusing; he did not care for soda. On second thought, however, he drank it soberly. Percy appreciated his father's acceptance of the proffered courtesy. "It's the first time my money ever bought anything for you." The experience was a novel one for them both.