A week having passed, it easily follows that another Saturday afternoon was entitled to arrive. The season beino- summer, it also follows that the boys were early on the road to the swimming-beach. In fact, there seemed some concert in their meeting, for quite a squad of the boys—the same who had met at the school-house—came along together. There was also a stranger with them. He was a quiet lad, dressed in a shabby suit and a little derby hat which seemed rather old for him, and he held his head down as he walked. Close beside him walked Ethan Plunkett, and it was noticeable that the stranger was treated with much consideration by Ethan, and indeed by all the boys.
This squad walked quietly to the swimming-beach, and, strangely enough, plunged into the river without delay, as if they had come only for a bath, instead of for a frolic as usual. They seemed to be expectant, for they watched the stranger keenly.
The look of relief which was plainly visible when Ralph McGregor appeared upon the shore would indicate that his presence was at least one of the factors necessary to gratify their expectations.
"Hello, fellows," said Ralph, as he threw off his coat, "why did n't you wait for me?"
"Oh, we knew you'd be along; and Plunkett wanted to take his visitor down to show him the beach," answered Tom Cromwell, who with careless ease was treading water not far from shore.
"That's all right," said Ralph, good-naturedly.
"Well, I'm glad you 're not displeased with us," said Plunkett, in rather a mocking tone. Ralph, however, was not thin-skinned, and repeated, "Oh, no; it's all right!" Then, taking a short run, he plunged into the water, diving under and coming up, with a snort and shake of the head, not far from the new boy.
"You 're Ralph McGregor?" asked the new-comer.
"Yes," replied Ralph, rather shortly, for he was not entirely
