Part 3 (2/2)

LETTING THE CAT OUT.

”Pooh! I shall not give it up so!” exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, when it was certain that Tom Magner did not intend to join the party.

”What will you do?” asked Kate.

”Go to Pennville, of course.”

”How will you get there?”

”In the boat; we will take the Greyhound.”

”You know we can't do anything of the kind, f.a.n.n.y Grant.”

”I know we can,” replied the resolute girl.

”But who will manage her?”

”I will manage her myself.”

”You?”

”Yes; I know how to manage a boat as well as any of them. I have sailed enough to understand the whole thing,” added f.a.n.n.y, as she led the way to the pier, off which the sail-boat was moored.

”Do you think I will risk my life in a boat with no one but you to manage it?”

”But I know how to handle the boat as well as any one,” persisted f.a.n.n.y. ”There isn't much wind, and I'm sure there is no danger.”

Kate Magner had a great many doubts, but the vision of cakes and candy, lemonade and ice-cream, which her companion's money would purchase, tempted her to yield. The breeze was apparently very light, and it seemed hardly possible that the boat could be upset. She wavered, and f.a.n.n.y saw the advantage she had gained.

”If we don't get along very well, we can hire some boy or man to manage the boat for us,” continued the resolute girl, pressing the point upon her yielding companion. ”There are some men and boys fis.h.i.+ng over there, and they will be very glad to make some money.”

”That will be the best way. If you will get one of those men to manage the boat, I will go with you; for there isn't any fun in being drowned, or in being run over by a steamboat.”

”Very well, I will do that,” replied f.a.n.n.y, her black eyes snapping with renewed vigor.

Ben, the boatman, who usually haunted the pier and the boat-house like a familiar spirit, had added many infirmities to his burden of cares during the eight years which have intervened since we first knew him, and he was now confined to his house by an attack of rheumatism. There was no one near, therefore, to interfere with the execution of f.a.n.n.y's plan. The Greyhound was moored a short distance from the pier, at which the small skiff, which served as her tender, was fastened. The two girls were about to embark in the little boat, when footsteps were heard at the upper end of the pier.

f.a.n.n.y started, released her hold of the painter of the skiff, and at once realized that her brilliant project was in imminent danger of being defeated. She turned to observe who the intruder was, and to her horror and consternation, discovered that it was Mr. Long, the constable, the greatest bugbear in the world to her on ordinary occasions, and especially so in the present instance, when her conscience accused her of a very wicked deed.

There was no opportunity to retreat, for the enemy was between her and the main land. She had been so intent upon the argument with her more cautious companion, that she had not noticed the approach of the constable until his feet struck upon the planking of the pier. The money she had stolen was in her pocket, and it felt just like a coal of fire, which was soon to create a conflagration that might burn her up.

She very much desired, just then, to get rid of this evidence of her crime, and she would have dropped the roll of bills into the water if it would have sunk to the bottom, and disappeared from the sight of the terrible man who was approaching.

f.a.n.n.y did not doubt that the loss of the money had been discovered by Mrs. Green, and that she had sent for the constable to arrest her and put her in prison--a threat which the housekeeper had injudiciously made on a former occasion, when the naughty girl had been guilty of a similar fault, but a threat which Mr. Grant would not have permitted to be carried out. This terrible punishment appalled f.a.n.n.y, but she did not entirely lose her self-possession. She had done a very great wrong; she had staked everything upon the success of the present venture. She was entirely satisfied that Mr. Grant, on his return, would send her to her uncle in Minnesota, and she had prepared herself for the worst. Her object, therefore, was to escape present defeat, and she hoped, cornered as she was by the constable, that some means of getting out of the dilemma might be presented to her.

”We are caught,” said Kate, as Mr. Long moved down the pier.

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