"Be you, though? I guess I'll go over with you," said Tom, with refreshing confidence. "I thought you were going to get some sassafras for your mother," added Paul, who had by this time come to the conclusion that his visitor was as queer as the craft upon which he had come. "I guess I'll git it another time. I want to go over to Westport to see a feller I know there." "But I can't bring you back, for my sister is coming with me, and the boat won't carry more than two," answered Paul, supposing this would end the matter. "All right; I will stay with the feller I know all night," replied the accommodating stranger. "I'll help you row the boat over." Paul was quite willing to have the queer fellow go with him, even if he had to row all the way himself, for the flatboat worked better with two in her than with one. Without a passenger she was too deep in the water forward, and dug her nose into the wave. He had not the least idea who his visitor was, but did not believe he had given his right name. If he had known him, he would have given him the cold shoulder at once. "I am not ready to go yet; I have to fix up the boat a little," continued Paul, as he laid the oars on the beach. "How long before you can go? I don't want to wait all day, Bristol Brick," added Tom. "You needn't wait one minute if you don't wish to," replied Paul, who wondered in what school of politeness his involuntary companion had been brought up. "I am going to wash out the boat and let her dry a little before I go." "What's the use of washing her out? She is clean enough for any feller to eat his dinner in," growled Tom. "Perhaps she is if the fellow's a pig," said Paul, as he hauled the boat up on the beach, nearly upsetting the Topover in the act. "Mind out! What are you doing? Do you mean to spill me into the drink?" demanded the saucy visitor. "If you don't get out of the boat, you will be likely to get a ducking," added Paul, as he took up a pail and a broom he had brought from the house before. Tom looked at the owner of the Dragon; in fact, he eyed him from head to foot. Tom was a pugilist, or he thought he was. He was a fighting character, and possibly he was thinking whether he could whip the son of toil, whose story had been told all over Genverres as well as on the other side of the lake. The Chesterfields had patronized and encouraged Tom Topover the season before, because they believed that he and his vicious companions could assist them in their encounters with the Beech Hillers. During the present season the students of the two schools had not come in collision, for the reason that Colonel Buckmill had forbidden his pupils to meddle with their old enemies. Since the removal of the cottage from Sandy Point the Chesterfield barges had been down to Porter's Bay, where Tom had met Walker Billcord. The Topover and his gang had fully discussed the attempt to capture Paul Bristol, and were familiar with all the particulars.