“Why, Grantley, of course.  I’m going, and so are you and Frank.  Why shouldn’t Dick go?”

“You’re going?  Hurrah for that!  Why didn’t you say so before?”

“Wasn’t sure till this morning.  You fellows ’ll be a long way ahead of me, though.  But I mean to catch up.”

For a few minutes poor Dick was lost sight of in a perfect storm of talk; but Dab came back to him, with,—­

“Dick’s folks are dreadful poor, but we might raise it.  Twenty dollars to begin with.”

“I’ve ten dollars saved up, and I know mother’ll say ’Pass it right in,’” exclaimed Ford.

It was hardly likely Mrs. Foster would express her assent in precisely that way; but Frank Harley promptly added,—­

“I think I can promise five.”

“I mean to speak to Ham Morris and mother about it,” said Dab.  “All I wanted was to fix it about the twenty dollars to start on.”

“Frank,” shouted Ford, “let’s go right in, and see our crowd!”

Ford was evidently getting a little excited; and it was hardly five minutes later that he wound up his story, in the house, with,—­

“Father, may I contribute my ten dollars to the Richard Lee Education Fund?”

“Of course; but he will need a good deal more money than you boys can raise.”

“Why, father, the advertisement says half a year for a hundred and fifty.  He can board for less than we can.  Perhaps Mrs. Myers would let him work out a part of it.”

“I can spare as much as Ford can,” here put in Annie.

“Do you leave me out entirely?” said her mother, with a smile that was even sweeter than usual.

As for sharp-eyed lawyer Foster himself, he had been hemming and coughing in an odd sort of way for a moment, and he had said, “I declare,” several times; but he now remarked, somewhat more to the purpose,—­

“I don’t believe in giving any man a better education than he will ever know what to do with; but then, this Dick Lee and you boys,—­well, see what you can do; but no one must be allowed to contribute outside of the Foster and Kinzer families, and Frank.  As for the rest, hem!—­ah—­I think I’ll say that there won’t be any difficulty.”

“You, father?”

“Why not, Annie?  Do you s’pose I’m going to let myself be beaten in such a matter by a mere country-boy like Dabney Kinzer?”

“Father,” said Ford, “if you’d seen how Dick behaved, that night, out there on the ocean, in ’The Swallow’!”

“Just as well, just as well, my son.”

“Hurrah!” shouted Ford.  “Then it’s all right, and Dick Lee’ll have a fair shake in the world!”

“A what, my son?” exclaimed his mother.

“I didn’t mean to talk slang, mother:  I only meant—­well, you know how dreadfully black he is; but then, he can steer a boat tiptop, and he’s splendid for crabs and bluefish; and Dab says he’s a good scholar too.”

“Dab’s a very good boy,” said Mrs. Foster; “but your friend Dick will need an outfit, I imagine,—­clothing, and almost every thing.  I must see Mrs. Kinzer about it.”