absence of any suitable playmate sometimes led her to invite the half-reformed vagabond of Woodville to assist in her sport.

"You are a pretty fellow, Noddy Newman!" said she, her pouting lips giving an added emphasis to her reproachful remark. "Why didn't you come down to the Point, as you said you would?"

"Because I couldn't, Miss Fanny," growled Noddy. "I had to wash out this confounded boat-house, or be reported to Miss Bertha."

"Couldn't you do that after you got back?"

"Ben said I must do it before nine o'clock. I wanted to go down to the Point, as I agreed, but you see I couldn't."

"I waited for you till I got tired out," pouted Fanny; but she neglected to add that five minutes on ordinary occasions were the full limit of her patience.

"Hang the old boat-house! I told Ben I wished it was burned up."

"So do I; but come along, Noddy. We will go now."

"I can't go till I've washed out the boat-house."

"Yes, you can."

"But if Ben comes down and finds the place hasn't been washed out, he will tell Miss Bertha."

"Let him tell her—who cares?"

"She will talk to me for an hour."

"Let her talk—talking won't kill you."

"I don't like to be talked to in that way by Miss Bertha."

"Fiddle-de-dee! You can tell her I wanted you," said Fanny, her eyes snapping with earnestness.

"Shall I tell her what you wanted me for?" asked Noddy, with a cunning look.

"Of course you needn't tell her that. But come along, or I shall go without you."

"No—you wouldn't do that, Miss Fanny. You couldn't."

"Well, won't you come?"

"Not now."

"I can't wait."

"I will go just as soon as I have done washing the boat-house."

"Plague on the boat-house!" snapped Fanny. "I wish it was burned up. What a nice fire it would make!—wouldn't it, Noddy?"

The bright eyes of the wayward miss sparkled with delight as she thought of the blazing building; and while her more wayward companion described the miseries which he daily endured in his regular work, she hardly listened to him. She seemed to be plotting mischief; but if she was, she did not make Noddy her confidant this time.

"Come, Noddy," said she, after a few moments' reflection, "I will promise to make it all right with Bertha."

Noddy dropped the broom with which he had begun to sweep up some chips and shavings Ben had made in repairing a boat-hook.

"If you will get me out of the scrape, I will go now," said he.

"I will; you may depend upon me."

"Then I will go."

"Where is Ben, now?"

"He has gone up to the house."

"Then you run down to the Point, and bring the boat up to the pier. I am tired, and don't want to walk down there again."

Noddy was entirely willing, and bounded off like a deer, for he had fully made up his mind to disobey orders, and his impulsive nature did not permit him to consider the consequences. He was absent but a few moments, and presently appeared rowing a small boat up the river. At the pier he turned the boat, and backed her up to the landing steps.

"All ready, Miss Fanny!" shouted the young boatman, for his companion in mischief was not in sight.

Still she did not appear; and Noddy was about to go in search of her, when she came out of the boat-house, and ran down to the steps. Her face was flushed, and she seemed to be very much agitated. Noddy was afraid, from her looks, that something had happened to spoil the anticipated sport of the morning; but she stepped into the boat, and told him, in hurried tones, to push off.

"What's the matter, Miss Fanny?" he asked, not a little startled by her appearance.

"Nothing, Noddy; pull away just as fast as ever you can."

"Are we caught?" said he, as he followed Fanny's direction.

"No; caught! no. Why don't you row faster, Noddy? You don't pull worth a cent."

"I am pulling as hard as I can," replied he, unable to keep pace with her impatience.

"I wouldn't be seen here now for anything!" exclaimed Fanny, earnestly, as she glanced back at the boat-house, with a look so uneasy that it almost unmanned her resolute companion.

Noddy pulled with all his might, and the light boat darted over the waves with a speed which ought to have satisfied his nervous passenger. As they reached the point of Van Alstine's Island, a dense smoke was seen to rise from the boat-house on the pier; and a few moments later, the whole building was wrapped in flames.

CHAPTER II.

THE CIRCUS AT WHITESTONE.

"Do you see that?" exclaimed Noddy, as he stopped rowing, and gazed at the flames which leaped madly up from the devoted building.

"I see it," replied Fanny, with even more agitation than was manifested by her companion.

"I don't understand it," added Noddy.

"The boat-house is on fire, and will burn up in a few minutes more. I think it is plain enough;" and Fanny struggled to be calm and indifferent.

"We must go back and see to it."

"We shall do nothing of the kind. Pull away as hard as ever you can, or we shall not get to Whitestone in season."

"I don't care about going to Whitestone now; I want to know what all that means."

"Can't you see what it means? The boat-house is on fire."

"Well, how did it catch afire? That's what bothers me."

"You needn't bother yourself about it. My father owns the boat-house, and it isn't worth much."

"All that may be; but I want to know how it got afire."

"We shall find out soon enough when we return."

"But I want to know now."

"You can't know now; so pull away."

"I shall have the credit of setting that fire," added Noddy, not a little disturbed by the anticipation.

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I shall. I told Ben I wished the boat-house would catch afire and burn up. Of course he will lay it to me."

"No matter if he does; Ben isn't everybody."

"Well, he is 'most everybody, so far as Miss Bertha is concerned; and I'd rather tumbled overboard in December than have that fire happen just now."

"You were not there when the fire broke out," said Fanny, with a strong effort to satisfy her boatman.

"That's the very reason why they will lay it to me. They will say I set the boat-house afire, and then ran away on purpose."

"I can say you were with me when the fire broke out, and that I know you didn't do it," replied Fanny.

"That will do; but I would give all my old shoes to know how the fire took, myself."

"No matter how it took."

"Yes, it is matter, Miss Fanny. I want to know. There wasn't any fire in the building when I left it."

"Perhaps somebody stopped there in a boat, and set it on fire."

"Perhaps they did; but I know very well they didn't," answered Noddy, positively. "There hasn't been any boat near the pier since we left it."

"Perhaps Ben left his pipe among those shavings."

"Ben never did that. He would cut his head off sooner than do such a thing. He is as scared of fire as he is of the Flying Dutchman."

"Don't say anything more about it. Now row over to Whitestone as quick as you can," added Fanny, petulantly.

"I'm not going over to Whitestone, after what has happened. I shouldn't have a bit of fun if I went."

"Very well, Noddy; then you may get out of the scrape as you can," said the young lady, angrily.

"What scrape?"

"Why,