“Well, I expect to stop overnight at the tavern; I can’t get through in one day.”

“Then come round to the Academy to-morrow morning, about half-past eight.  School don’t begin till nine, but the boys will be playing ball alongside.  Then we’ll give you an introduction to your cousin.”

“That’ll suit me well enough.  I’ll come.”

Tom Carver returned in triumph, and communicated to the other boys the arrangement be had made with Mr. Bickford, and his unexpected discovery of the genuine relationship that existed between Fitz and the tin-pedler.  His communication was listened to with great delight, and no little hilarity, and the boys discussed the probable effect of the projected meeting.

“Fitz will be perfectly raving,” said Henry Fairbanks.  “There’s nothing that will take down his pride so much.”

“He’ll deny the relationship, probably,” said Oscar.

“How can he?”

“He’ll do it.  See if he don’t.  It would be death to all his aristocratic claims to admit it.”

“Suppose it were yourself, Oscar?”

“I’d say, ‘How are you, cousin?  How’s the the business?’” answered Oscar, promptly.

“I believe you would, Oscar.  There’s nothing of the snob about you.”

“I hope not.”

“Yet your family stands as high as Fletcher’s.”

“That’s a point I leave to others to discuss,” said Oscar.  “My father is universally respected, I am sure, but he rose from the ranks.  He was once a printer’s devil, like my friend Harry Walton.  Wouldn’t it be ridiculous in me to turn up my nose at Walton, just because be stands now where my father did thirty years ago?  It would be the same thing as sneering at father.”

“Give us your hand, Oscar,” said Henry Fairbanks.  “You’ve got no nonsense about you—­I like you.”

“I’m not sure whether your compliment is deserved, Henry,” said Oscar, “but if I have any nonsense it isn’t of that kind.”

“Do you believe Fitz has any suspicion that he has a cousin in the tin business?”

“No; I don’t believe he has.  He must know he has poor relations, living in the country, but he probably thinks as little as possible about them.  As long as they don’t intrude themselves upon his greatness, I suppose he is satisfied.”

“And as long as no one suspects that he has any connection with such plebeians.”

“Of course.”

“What sort of a man is this tin-pedler, Tom?” asked Oscar.

“He’s a pretty sharp fellow—­not educated, or polished, you know, but he seems to have some sensible ideas.  He said he had never seen the Fletchers; because he didn’t want to poke his nose in where he wasn’t wanted.  He showed his good sense also by saying that he had rather have me for a cousin than Fitz.”

“That isn’t a very high compliment—­I’d say the same myself.”

“Thank you, Oscar.  Your compliment exalts me.  You won’t mind my strutting a little.”