“Sell for more in Ogleport,” remarked Zeb. “Puff’s the best fisherman on the lake, but I wouldn’t care to own him. Now, Hy, I’ve got something more to tell you ’bout the new teacher. I’ve taken that young man right in hand.” “Hope he’ll turn out better than old Sol,” said Hy. “Hiram,” said Zeb, “I’m afraid Solomon’s a failure. I give him up, but I’ve great hopes of George Brayton.” Hy was quite ready to listen, for every day was bringing the fall term nearer, and school matters were assuming a place of first-class importance in the minds of the boys of Ogleport. CHAPTER XIV A SHARPER OUTWITTED Bar and Val had a splendid time at the seashore. Never before had the former passed a week of such thoroughgoing enjoyment. It was grand fun to catch fish; the very sailing and rowing were a kind of new life; every crab and clam they laid their hands on was a sort of new wonder. Still, if Bar had tried to analyze his feelings he would have found that, after all, the secret of his happiness was the fact that his “new time” was daily becoming more and more of a clear and clean and beautiful reality. Val Manning was capital company, and they made more than one trip to the quiet and pleasant little home of Mrs. Brayton and Sibyl. The widow, for such she was, seemed always glad to see them, and Sibyl was sure to have something more to tell them about “George,” who seemed, indeed, to be a sort of human idol in the mind of his very pretty sister. That sort of thing, nice as it was, had an end at last, and Bar experienced a halfway gloomy sensation at finding himself once more on his way to the great city. Their stay there was to be brief, as previously decided, but Bar had one more good, long talk with the judge and the doctor. “I wish,” said the former, “that you could open your valise now, but that’s impossible. I wouldn’t have you break your word for anything. I’ll tell you, however, one thing I wish you’d do. Every time you recall, or think you do, anything that happened away back, before you began to live with Major Montague, I wish you would write it down.” “Has he been to see you while I was gone?” asked Bar. “I think he was in my office once while I was out,” replied the judge; “but he must have seen something or somebody there he didn’t like, for he hasn’t turned up since.” “He’s not a man to give up anything,” said Bar; “but he can hardly find me as far away as Ogleport.” “Hardly,” said the doctor; “and now, Barnaby, we both hope you will give a good account of yourself at the Academy. You will have to study pretty hard at first.” “I suppose so,” said Bar. “Val knows a great many things that I have never heard of.” “Keep your courage up, though,” said Judge Danvers. “I mean to make a lawyer of you one of these days. You’re just built for one.”