“It is not pleasant,” he mused, “to give up the idea of Tim becoming my successor, for he is the only one I have ever thought of as such.  But there is force in what ‘Mit’ says about driving a boy into a calling or profession that he hates; he will make a failure of it, whereas he might become very successful if left to follow his own preferences.  I wonder who ‘Mit’ is; his articles are the best I have ever read in the Intelligencer; I must ask the editor, so I can have him out here and talk over this question which is the biggest bother I ever had.”

Before Maggie and Tim separated to go to their rooms, and while at the top of the stairs they whispered together for a few minutes.  The parent had got thus far in his musings, when he heard the voice of Maggie calling from above: 

“Father, do you think ‘Mit’ is a smart fellow?”

“Of course, even though I may not agree with all his views,” replied the parent, wondering why his child was so interested.

“Would you like to know who he is?”

“Of course, but you told me you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t at that time, but I have learned since.  If you will spell the name backwards and put it before your surname, you will have that of the youth who wrote the articles you admire so much.”

The parent did as suggested, and behold! the name thus spelled out was that of his only son, whose writings he had praised before the young man’s face.

CHAPTER IV.

When the chuckling Tim told his sister the secret as he paused to kiss her good-night at the head of the stairs, he did not dream that she would reveal it to their father; but, before he could exact a promise, she emitted the truth, despite his attempts to place his hand over her mouth.  Then she darted off, and, humiliated and chagrined, he went to his own room.

But the parent was given more to think about.  He was pleasant to both the next morning at breakfast and made no reference to the matter that was in the minds of all.  Just as the meal was finished, he remarked: 

“Tim, the load of stone is ready and we will take it over to Montvale to-day; wouldn’t you like to go with us?”

“Thank you, father; I shall be glad to go.”

“All right; as soon as you and Maggie are through with your nonsense, come out to the wharf and join us.”

The method of transporting stone from the Brereton quarries to Montvale, on the other side of the river, was simple.  The canal ran directly in front of the quarries, and there the boat was loaded with the heavy freight.  It was then drawn by horse through the canal Denville, several miles to the north, where the waterway touched the level of the Castaran river.  Passing through a lock, the boat was pulled across the stream by means of a rope, and wheel arrangement (a heavy dam furnishing comparatively deep and smooth water), when another lock admitted it to the canal on the opposite side.