But this the tramp did not see.  He slouched up to his young employer, saying, with a cunning grin: 

“Well, did you see it?”

“Did I see it?” repeated Conrad, boiling over with fury.  “Yes, I did.”

“I did it pretty well, didn’t I?  I guess the boat isn’t good for much now.”

“You stupid fool!” blazed out Conrad.  “It is my boat that you ruined.  I have a great mind to have you arrested!”

“Your boat?  It was the boat you pointed out to me.”

“No, it wasn’t.  It was my own boat.”

“Then where was the other boat?  I didn’t see but one.”

“I don’t know, but you might have had sense enough to know that you’d got the wrong boat.”

The tramp’s hopes fell.  He had intended to ask for another dollar from Conrad, but he saw now that there was no chance whatever of his obtaining it.

“You’d better get out of town as soon as you can,” said Conrad, roughly.

“Why should I?” demanded the tramp, sullenly.

“Because you were seen destroying the boat.”

“Who saw me?”

“A small boy who lives at the next house.  You might be arrested.”

“If I am, I’ll tell the truth.  I’ll tell who put me up to it.”

“And I’ll deny it.  Do you think any one would believe your word against mine, especially as it was my boat that was ruined?”

The tramp saw the logic of this remark and walked away.  He was seen no more in the village.

“Now I’ll tackle father,” thought Conrad.

He directed his steps homeward and informed the squire of what had happened.

His father frowned and looked displeased.

“If you are not smart enough to take care of your boat,” he said, coldly, “you will have to suffer the consequences.”

“But I don’t see how I am to blame?”

“Have you any idea who did the mischief?”

“Perhaps Andy Grant did—­he doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t think that very probable.  You can charge him with it if you think best.  But I thought you told me he had a new boat of his own?”

“So he has—­a perfect beauty!  It is ever so much better than mine.  I wish—­”

“Well, what do you wish?”

“That you would buy me one like his.”

“Well, I like that.  After losing your boat through your own carelessness, you want me to invest a large sum in another.”

“Must I go without one, then?” asked Conrad, in dismay.

“It looks that way.”

Conrad resorted to earnest entreaties.  He was willing, now, to accept any sort of boat, for he was fond of rowing; but Squire Carter had just heard unfavorable reports from his broker about a speculation he had entered into, and he was inflexible.

“What a fool I was!” reflected Conrad, bitterly.  “My boat was a good one, even if it wasn’t as fine as Andy’s, and now I have none.  I shall have to borrow his or Valentine’s when I want to go out rowing.”