ences to the proper way to handle an oar, and some talk of the offer of Mr. Pierson to coach them, the lads rowed back to their camp. They spent the next two days in getting the place in better shape.
"For exhibition purposes," Sid explained. "The girls might come to lunch some day."
"Say, he's got girls on the brain!" complained Phil. "Duck him, Tom, you aren't doing anything."
But Sid discretely got out of the way.
A day later the Boswell family arrived at the island. There were several servants—almost too many for the simple cottage—and Mr. and Mrs. Boswell, in addition to their son. It was hard to see from whom the lad inherited his unpleasant mannerisms, for both his parents were of the old-fashioned school of gentlemen and ladies, with exceedingly kind hearts. Boswell had evidently been spoiled, unless he did the spoiling process himself, which was more than likely.
When Mr. Boswell learned that some of his son's college mates were on the island, he paid a formal call on them, and invited them to the cottage. They promised to come—some time.
"When Bossy isn't home, I hope," murmured Sid.
Pierce, Boswell's English chum, arrived that same week, and after that our friends saw little of
