enjoyed fine sport, as Frank had said they would, and they were too
much engaged to think of being hungry. But soon the fish began to stop
biting, and Harry, who had waited impatiently for almost five minutes
for a "nibble," drew up his line and opened a locker in the stern of
the boat, and, taking out a basket containing their dinner, was about
to make an inroad on its contents, when he discovered a boat, rowed by
a boy about his own age, shoot rapidly around a point that extended
for a considerable distance out into the river, and turn toward the
spot where they were anchored.

"Boys," he exclaimed, "here comes Charley Morgan!"

"Charley Morgan," repeated Frank. "Who is he?"

"Why, he is the new-comer," answered George. "He lives in the large
brick house on the hill."

Charley Morgan had formerly lived in New York. His father was a
speculator, and was looked upon by some as a wealthy man; but it was
hinted by those who knew him best that if his debts were all paid he
would have but little ready money left. Be that as it may, Mr. Morgan
and his family, at any rate, lived in style, and seemed desirous of
outshining all their neighbors and acquaintances. Becoming weary of
city life, they had decided to move into the country, and, purchasing
a fine village lot in Lawrence, commenced building a house upon it.
Although the village could boast of many fine dwellings, the one on
Tower Hill, owned by Mr. Morgan, surpassed them all, and, as is always
the case in such places, every one was eager to discover who was to
occupy the elegant mansion. When the house was completed, Mr. Morgan
returned to New York to bring on his family, leaving three or four