Among the boys who had boats on the pond were Dean Dunham and Brandon Bates, but there was a considerable difference between them. Dean's was an old flat-bottomed boat, which he had bought for a dollar from a man who had used it for half a dozen years, while Brandon's was spick and span new, a very handsome craft, and by all odds the finest on the pond.
Brandon was not, however, the best rower, though he considered himself such. That distinction belonged to Dean, whose arms were strengthened by labor, and whose constant practice gave him unusual skill.
Directly in the middle of the pond was a small island, not over half an acre in extent, which naturally enough was often visited by the boys of Waterford.
On the day of Adin Dunham's journey to Rockmount, Brandon, having nothing else to do, for there was a vacation in the village school, sauntered down to the place where he kept his boat. He had had a small boat-house constructed, where he kept his boat under cover. It had been built by Adin Dunham, the village carpenter, and excited the admiration of the other village boys, who did not aspire to such a luxury.
"Why don't you get your uncle to build you a boat-house, Dean?" asked Brandon, satirically.
Dean laughed good-naturedly.
"My old boat isn't likely to be injured by exposure to the weather," he answered.
"That's true. How would you like to have a boat like mine?"
"I should be delighted; so if you are thinking of giving me one, I hope you will go ahead and do it."