"Why, Bob," said he, "have you been in swimming with your clothes on?"
"Yes, sir," was the reply, "but I couldn't help it. Sam Barton sunk my boat for me."
"He did! The young rascal! That boy is going to State's prison by the lightning express train. I wouldn't have any thing to do with him, Bob. You have no boat now, I suppose?"
"No, sir," replied the fisher-boy, sorrowfully; and when he thought of the Go Ahead, he could not keep back his tears.
"Never mind," said Mr. Graves, kindly, "you have not lost much."
"I have lost a great deal, sir," replied Bob. "I can't live without a boat."
"Of course you can't," said Mr. Graves, briskly. "You must get another. Now, perhaps I can sell you one of my nice little skiffs. They are very cheap, and warranted fast. Better take one of 'em, Bob, and then you can pay off Sam Barton by taking all his passengers away from him. Wouldn't that be glorious?"
The boat-builder evidently became excited as he said this, for he punched Bob in the ribs with his fingers, and laughed so loudly that he was heard all over the ship-yard.
"I'd like to have one of them," said the fisher-boy, "but I've got no money to pay for it now."