“You was right about Skinner,” he said to Bar. “The old weasel had a feller down here, snookin’ ’round and askin’ questions. I jist showed him everything and told him he could go over and see you, if he wanted to buy any one of the boats. He didn’t come, did he?” “No, and he won’t,” said Bar; “but we must have the _Mary_ all ready to-morrow. You’ve never painted her name on her. How long would it take?” “Do it in no time,” said Puff. “Be all dry in the mornin’.” “Then she’ll have to be called the _Sibyl_, for to-morrow,” said Bar, with more color than usual in his face. “Paint it as nicely as you can. When I sell her back to you, you can name her over again if you choose.” “All right,” replied Puff. “That’s a good enough name for a boat, anyhow. I’ve seen right big boats and nice ones, too, with the meanest kind of names.” Val Manning chuckled in Bar’s very face, as Puff declared his not very complimentary assent, but Bar seemed to have nothing to say, and they went home to supper. “Now, Mrs. Brayton,” said Bar, just before they left the table, “there isn’t a bit of danger, and I’m so glad you’ve consented. I’m sorry you can’t go; but Mr. Brayton himself can take care of Miss Sibyl. Then there’s one thing more I have to ask of her.” “What’s that?” said Sibyl. “Why, I’m only a boy, you know, and I wouldn’t dare to go over and ask Dr. Dryer’s daughter to come, too. She’d be company for you, and if you’d only do me the favor to ask her for me, I’d be ever so much obliged.” Bar could hardly understand why Mrs. Brayton’s eyebrows should contract so suddenly as they did, or why George Brayton should so promptly come to his support, with: “That’ll be just the thing, Sibyl. She’s tried to be polite to you and mother, and I’m sure she’d enjoy it.” If Mrs. Brayton had meant to put in any objection it was too late now, for Sibyl was even demonstrative in her readiness to secure the company of Effie Dryer. “She’s the merriest, sweetest, nicest girl,” exclaimed Sibyl. “She’s years older than I am, but she makes me feel perfectly at home with her. Of course I may, mamma?” “Certainly, my dear,” was Mrs. Brayton’s half doubtful reply, but there must have been a vein of mischief in Val Manning for he instantly proposed to accompany Sibyl in her call at the principal’s house. It was curious that both Bar Vernon and George Brayton should feel at the same moment, as if they would like to see Val Manning tumble into the mill-pond with his clothes on! His goodness was its own reward, however, for he had the happiness, shortly afterwards, of being smiled on by Mrs. Dryer and preached to by her husband for a round hour, while Sibyl and Effie were having a good long talk all by themselves. When the latter came at last to Val’s rescue, however, it suddenly became very difficult for Mrs. Dryer to look sweet, for Effie’s first words were, “So kind of Mrs. Brayton, is it not, papa?”