But, somehow or other, these fellows who take no trouble are always the first to gain the end. A special Providence seems to aid the poor, helpless creatures. So, while the crowd still pressed at the office-desk, Jerry Swayne, the head clerk, happened to pass directly by the piazza where the inert ones sat, and, raising a comical eye, saluted them. "Heavy arrivals to-night. See the turn-out?" "Y-e-s," murmured Ned. "Old Chapman and family. His daughter drove the pony-phaëton, with her friend, a Miss Thurston. Regular nobby ones. Chapman's the steamship-man, you know. Worth thousands of millions! I'd like to be connected with his family--by marriage, say!"--and Jerry went off, rubbing his cropped head, and smiling all over, as was his wont. "I know who they are now," said Charley. "Met a cousin of theirs, Joe Faulkner, abroad, two years ago. Doocèd fine fellow. Army." The manly art of wagoning is not pursued very vigorously at Brant Beach. The roads are too heavy back from the water, and the drive is confined to a narrow strip of wet sand along the shore; so carriages are few, and the pony-chaise became a distinguished element at once. Salisbury and Burnham whirled past it in their light trotting-wagons at a furious pace, and looked hard at the two young ladies in passing, but without eliciting even the smallest glance from them in return. "Confounded _distingué_-looking girls, and all that," owned Ned; "but, aw, fearfully unconscious of a fellow!" This condition of matters continued until the young men were actually driven to acknowledge to each other that they should not mind knowing the occupants of the pony-carriage. It was a great concession, and was rewarded duly. A bright, handsome boy of seventeen, Miss Thurston's brother, came to pass a few days at the seaside, and fraternized with everybody, but was especially delighted with Ned Salisbury, who took him out sailing and shooting, and, I am afraid, gave him cigars stealthily, when out of range of Miss Thurston's fine eyes. The result was, that the first time the lad walked on the beach with the two girls, and met the young men, introductions of an enthusiastic nature were instantly sprung upon them. An attempt at conversation followed. "How do you like Brant Beach?" asked Ned. "Oh, it is a pretty place," said Miss Chapman, "but not lively enough." "Well, Burnham and I find it pleasant; aw, we have lots of fun." "Indeed! Why, what do you do?" "Oh, I don't know. Everything." "Is the shooting good? I saw you with your guns, yesterday." "Well, there isn't a great deal of game. There is some fishing, but we haven't caught much." "How do you kill time, then?" Salisbury looked puzzled. "Aw--it is a first-rate air, you know. The table is good, and you can sleep like a top. And then, you see, I like to smoke around, and do nothing, on the sea-shore. It is real jolly to lie on the sand, aw, with all sorts of little bugs running over you, and listen to the water swashing about!"