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was in front of his own home, and his father as he smoked his pipe looked on, the mother being out of sight within the house. The headgear fitted perfectly.

      "It's a pity to waste such fine wear on the hid of so ugly looking a spalpeen," remarked the father; "in trooth it ill becomes him."

      "How can ye have the heart to blame me, dad, that I was born wid such a close resimblance to yersilf that if we was the same age mither couldn't till us apart?"

      The parent was about to reply to this personal remark, but ignored his offspring and spoke to Alvin.

      "Ye have a foine day for a sail, Captain."

      "It is perfect."

      "And Chister Haynes goes wid yes?"

      "We are partners all the way through and he's expecting me."

      "The sicond mate hasn't the honor of an acquaintance with the first mate, but it won't take us long to larn aich ither's ways," said Mike, bubbling over with high spirits and the promise of a day of rare enjoyment. "The mate hasn't the right to make suggistions to the captain, but if he had he would venture to obsarve that he is wasting vallyble time talking wid a gentleman who can't tell a gasoline launch from a lobster pot – "

      "Be the same token he can till a lobster when he sees him," exclaimed the parent in pretended wrath, making a dive for his son, who eluded him by darting into the highway. Alvin waved a good-by to Pat and the youths hurried away, anxious to be out on the water.

      While following the road toward the home of Chester Haynes, Mike took off his cap and admiringly surveyed it. He noted the patent leather visor, the gilt buttons to which the chin strap was attached, and then spelled out the name on the front.

      "I 'spose that is what your boat is called, Captain?" he remarked inquiringly.

      "Yes; you know it's the fashion for sailors on a man-of-war thus to show the name of the ship to which they belong."

      "But why didn't the sign painter git the word roight?"

      "What do you mean, Mike? Isn't that the correct way to spell 'Deerfoot'?"

      "I 'spose the first part might go, as me uncle obsarved whin the front of his shanty fell down, but the rear is wrong."

      "You mean 'foot.' What is wrong about it?"

      "The same should be 'fut': that's the way we spell it in Ireland."

      "We have a different method here," gravely remarked Alvin.

      "And if I may ask, Captain, where did you git the name from?"

      "Have you ever read about Deerfoot the Shawanoe? He was such a wonderful young Indian that I guess he never lived. But Chester and I became fond of him, and when Chester thought it would be a good idea to name the boat for him I was glad to do so."

      "Deerfut the Shenanigan," repeated Mike. "Where can I maat the gintleman?"

      "Oh, he's been dead these many years, – long before you or I was born."

      "Wurrah, wurrah, what a pity!" and Mike sighed as if from regret. "Are you sure that isn't him that's coming up the road?"

      A youth of about the age of Alvin, but of lighter build, and dressed like him in yachting costume, came into sight around a slight bend in the highway.

      "That's Chester; he's so anxious to take advantage of this beautiful day that he has come to meet us, though he might have used the boat for part of the way since he is well able to handle it."

      A few minutes later Chester and Mike were introduced. No one could help being pleased with the good-natured Irish youth, and the two warmly shook hands.

      "Mike did me such a fine service last night that I must tell you about it," remarked Alvin as the three walked southward.

      "Arrah, now, ye make me blush," protested Mike, "as I said whin they crowned me Queen of May in the owld counthry."

      Alvin, however, related the whole story and you may be sure it lost none in the narration. Mike insisted that the Captain had done a great deal more than he to bring about a glorious victory.

      "I believe every word Alvin has told me," was the comment of Chester; "and I am proud to have you with us as a friend."

      "Such being the case," added Alvin, "I have as a slight token of my appreciation, made Mike my first mate, with you as second, and all three as the crew of the Deerfoot."

      "There couldn't be a finer appointment," assented Chester. "I suppose, Mate Murphy, you know all about sailing a boat?"

      "I larned the trade in the owld counthry, by sailing me mither's old shoe in a tub of water; I 'spose the same is all that is nicessary."

      "That is sufficient, but," and the manner of Chester was grave, "you two make light of what is a pretty serious matter. That attack upon you was a crime that ought to be punished."

      "I'm thinking it has been," said Mike; "I belave the rapscallions are of the same mind."

      "No doubt they meant to rob you."

      "And would have succeeded but for Mike. We never saw them before, have no idea who they are, or how they came to be in this part of Maine, nor where they have gone."

      "Would you know either if you met him by day?"

      "I am not sure, though the moonlight gave me a pretty fair view. It wasn't a time for a calm inspection."

      "I'm sure I would know the chap that I had the run in wid," said Mike.

      "How?"

      "By his black eye and smashed nose."

      "They might help. They were dressed well, but I can't understand what caused them to visit Southport and to lie in wait for me."

      "Have there been any burglaries or robberies in the neighborhood?"

      "None, so far as I have heard. You know there have been a number of post office robberies among the towns to the north, but it can't be that those two fellows have had anything to do with them."

      "Probably not, and yet it is not impossible. I often wonder why there are not more crimes of that kind at the seaside and mountain resorts, where there are so many opportunities offered. The couple you ran against may belong to some gang who have decided to change their field of operations."

      "If so we shall soon hear of them again."

      "Arrah, now, if we could only maat them agin!" sighed the wistful Mike. "It would make me young once more."

      CHAPTER VII

      One August Day

      "Well, here we are!"

      It was Captain Alvin Landon who uttered the exclamation as the three came to a halt on the shore at the point nearest the moorings of the gasoline launch Deerfoot, left there the night before.

      She made a pretty picture, with her graceful lines, shining varnish, polished brass work and cleanliness everywhere. The steersman in the cockpit was guarded by a wind-shield of thick glass. At the stern floated a flag displaying an anchor surrounded by a circle of stars with the stripes as shown in our national emblem. At the bow flew a burgee or small swallow-tailed flag of blue upon which was the word Deerfoot in gold. The bunting was always taken in when the boat lay up for the night, but in daytime and in clear weather it was displayed on the launch.

      Not only could one sleep with some comfort on such a craft by using the convertible seats, but food could be prepared on an oil stove. In cruising, however, among the numerous islands and bays, it was so easy to go ashore for an excellent meal that Captain Landon followed the rule.

      The water was so deep close to land that the three easily sprang aboard, the Captain being last in order to cast off the line that held the boat in place. It was the first time that Mike Murphy had ever placed foot on a craft of that nature. While Chester hustled about, Alvin quickly joining him, he gaped around in silent amazement. He felt that in his ignorance of everything the best course for him was to do nothing without the advice of his young friends. He sank down gingerly on one of the seats and watched them.

      He saw the Captain thrust

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