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 "Not a bit, thanks. He didn't get close enough to me"—this with a chuckle.

"Were you fishing down in that lonely glen? It is a very fair spot for bass."

"Yes; Mr. Wooden took me down into the ravine quite a little way above it. Do you know the place, sir?"

"O, yes, sir; I know the place very well, sir," answered Gerald's defender, with a quizzical twinkle in his eyes as he repeated those "sirs." Then they both laughed. Gerald slyly compared their respective heights. His new friend could not be so very much taller. Certainly he was not over seventeen.

"You see, I was raised here—after a fashion," went on the latter in his clear, strong voice. "You are one of the guests over at our Ossokosee House, aren't you? I think I've seen you on the piazza."

"Yes; I've been stopping there while my father is away. My name is Gerald Saxton, though almost every body calls me Gerald."

"And mine is Philip Touchtone, but every body calls me Philip, and you needn't call me 'sir,' please. I know Mr. Marcy, who keeps the Ossokosee very well. It was to deliver a