pleased to be addressed with so much assurance by a "new" boy. "What's your name?" he asked, in turn.
"Signor Alberto," replied the youngster as quietly as if he had said Thomas Brown.
"What?" said Ralph, in his surprise.
"Signor Alberto," replied the boy, in the same matter-of-fact tone.
"What are you? French?" asked Ralph.
"No. Are you Scotch?" inquired the other boy.
"No. Why?"
"Because your name is McGregor," and the boy turned and swam, somewhat awkwardly, away.
Ralph struck out in his wake, and soon overtook him; Ralph's curiosity was excited, and he wanted to ask a few more questions. But just as he came abreast of the other swimmer, the stranger dived, and came up several feet further away. Ralph again swam to him, and the diving was repeated. When he came up Ralph called:
"See here, Alberto, or whatever your name is, I want to talk to you."
"Well," replied the other, "what of it?"
"You keep swimming away," replied Ralph.
"Can't you swim?" asked Alberto, in a dry tone which made the other boys grin.
"Course I can, but I want to talk now."
"Well, talk,—and I 'll swim," replied the cool stranger. The boys chuckled, and Ralph's temper was a little ruffled.
"Come here!" said he, somewhat imperiously.
"I have n't time," replied Alberto; "and I'm afraid I shall wet my feet." The last part of the reply admitted of but one construction. This irreverant stranger was evidently poking fun at the proud McGregor.
"If you don't come, I 'll come there and duck you," said Ralph; at the same time pretending to laugh as if he were only joking.
