"Hello, everybody!" he cried cheerfully. "Wish you Happy New-Year!" Merry was the first to grasp the significance of the excitement. "Why, it's Billy Huntington!" she exclaimed. "Of course," he admitted, still grinning; "who else would charge down here like a young dace just for the pleasure of wishing you the compliments of the season?" The young man paused long enough to assist the ladies over the rail, with a greeting to each. "There's your uncle," Merry said, nodding in the direction of the men; "don't you recognize him?" "Surest thing you know," Billy answered, still hanging back. "I'm waiting to see if he will recognize me, under all the circumstances." "Come here, you young rascal," Huntington responded to the implied question as he stepped on the pier; "come here and give an account of yourself." "Well," Billy replied slowly, clinging to the extended hand as a refuge, "you see I didn't know Mr. Cosden came down with you, and it was vacation, and I thought you'd be awfully lonely here without me--" "I see," his uncle said dryly; "it was all on my account." Billy seemed to feel the necessity of further explanation. "Of course I knew Merry--the Thatchers were here. Phil told me--" "Too bad Philip couldn't have come with you," Mrs. Thatcher remarked. "Yes; he went up to the Lawrences' house-party for over Christmas as he planned." "How did you leave your worthy parents?" Huntington inquired. A look of dismay passed over the boy's face. "I forgot to telegraph them from New York, and I meant to cable just as soon as I arrived." Then an expression of relief came to his assistance: "But they'll know I'm with you--somewhere." Huntington sighed. "Another reckoning for me when I return!" he said resignedly; "but it's worth it all to know that you 'charged down here like a young dace' as soon as you realized your poor uncle's 'awful loneliness.'" "Then it was you who tried to signal us from the tender?" Merry came to his rescue. "Yes; I thought it was you; I wigwagged until I almost plunged overboard. I've got to go back Monday, to reach Cambridge in time to register, so I hated to lose a whole day out of three." "There's one thing about a college education which Mr. Huntington didn't mention last evening," Thatcher remarked to Cosden as they walked toward the bar for the anteprandial cocktail; "it gives a boy freedom of action and breadth of imagination." "Huntington left out a whole lot of things he might have touched on," Cosden said testily. "That's a topic on which we don't agree, and never shall. There is a boy with many sterling qualities going to waste because Monty has more wishbone than backbone in the matter of discipline." "Don't get started on that, Connie," Huntington's voice came from the rear. "I've no doubt it's deserved, but that boy keeps me from remembering that my own days of irresponsibility are so far behind me. I believe I enjoy him the more because I haven't a parent's duty to perform."