"He isn't my friend!" Judith cried sharply to the Evil Thing in her breast. "He never will be again. If it wasn't for Uncle Jem I'd never look at him again as long as I live!" All this little dialogue had gone on unsuspected by the little pink "mastif" in the bow of the little dory. Blossom had been busy edging out of the reach of the ugly things in the bottom of the boat. If Judith had only edged away from her Ugly Thing! Another surprise was even now on the way--a surprise so stupendous and unexpected that, beside it, the lobster-surprise would dwindle away into insignificance and be quite forgotten for the rest of the day. And oddly enough, it was to be Blossom who should be discoverer again. "I'm going a little farther out and fish awhile," Judith announced over her last trap. "I've got all my tackle aboard and maybe I can find something Mrs. Ben will want. You sit still as a mouse, Blossom, for I cant't be watching you and fishing, too." "I'll sit still as _two_ mice. Needn't think o' me!" answered the little one proudly. Did Judy think she was little like that? Just because she hadn't legs that would go! They didn't need to go, did they, out here in the middle of the sea! "What makes it look so ripply an' bubbly out there?" she questioned with grown-up dignity. Judy should see she could sit still and talk like anybody. "Where?" asked Judith absently. She did not take the trouble to follow the little pointing finger with her eyes. "_There_--why don't you look? It's all pretty an' ripply an' kind of queer. Doesn't look like plain water 'xactly. Look, Judy--why don't you?" "I am looking now--Oh, Oh, wait! It looks like--Blossom, I believe it's a school! That's the way the water always loo--Blossom, Blossom, do you hear me, it's a school! A school of mackerel--a _school_, I tell you!" "Well, you needn't keep on a-telling me." Blossom, anyway, was calm. "I'm not deaf o' hearing, am I? If it's a school, le's us go right straight out there an' fish it up, Judy." Judy was going right straight out there with all the strength of her powerful young arms. She was not calm; her face was quivering with excitement and joy. A school! A school! Oh, but that meant so much for the Blossom-fund, to put away in the stocking in the bureau drawer! If it should prove a big school--but she and Blossom could not manage a big one, never in the world. If Jemmy Thr--no, no, not Jemmy Three! This was not Jemmy Three's school--what had he to do with it?