Early the following afternoon, Billy saw 'Phonse LeBrinn throwing stones at the boat-house, and, as he liked to play with 'Phonse much better than with his nearest neighbours, the twins in the green cottage, he flew down the bank fast as he could go.

"Oh, Frenchy," he panted, "I wish I could run like a deer, way you do. I can't run worth a cent."

"Shouldn't think you could," grinned 'Phonse.

"Let's go the other side of the boat-house," suggested Billy, "I'm 'fraid, if my mother sees me down here, she'll think of something she wants me to do."

'Phonse was sure of it, so he and Billy straightway sought a hiding-place.

"What have you got that tog on for?" asked 'Phonse.

"Going to be a thimble party at our house," explained Billy, "and Bet made such a fuss I had to be dressed up fear somebody might see me."

"Where's Gerald?"

"He's camping this week at the Snow Islands with some folks. Wish he was home. What'll we do this afternoon, 'Phonse?"

"Catch minnows; don't you want to?"

"I'd rather hunt for Aunt Florence's locket than anything else. See, 'Phonse, that girl up there on the bank looking through my father's spy-glass, she's my Aunt Florence, and she's a brick."

"Ain't she pretty!" exclaimed 'Phonse. "She's the prettiest lady I ever saw. She wouldn't like me, though; nobody does."

"I do; all the trouble is, 'Phonse, nobody's acquainted with you. Now, if you could find Aunt Florence's locket that she lost yesterday, she'd like you for ever and ever. I know she would."

"Where'd she lose it, Billy?"

"She thinks she lost it at the old fort yesterday. It's a gold locket that her father gave her when she graduated last summer, and Aunt Florence and I hunted for it all the forenoon. We had to give up. 'Phonse, you stay here, and I'll run up to the house and tell my mother I'm going to hunt for the locket. You be walking up the beach, and I'll meet you around the point."

When Billy rejoined his ragged playmate, the two began a diligent search for the locket.

"If anybody can find it, you can, 'Phonse."

"Aw, somebody's picked it up 'fore this, Billy. Nobody could help seeing it on this black ground. Gold shines, you know."

"Maybe," suggested Billy, "maybe she didn't lose it; perhaps she lost it where we were digging for beads. Surely, this morning we hunted over every inch of this trail, and you know Betty."

'Phonse nodded his black head. "She'd find it if it was here. Don't you want to go swimmun, Billy?"

"Too cold, 'Phonse; we'd freeze."

"We can make a bonfire on the beach, see?" 'Phonse showed Billy a handful of matches. "Swiped 'em," he commented. "We'll go down on the sand under the bank and start a fire beside of the tramp's raft. Nobody'll see us there, you know, and we can go swimmun and get dressed where it's warm."

"All right, sir," assented Billy, "only don't run, 'Phonse, whatever you do."

Beyond the fort was an old raft of planks, upon which years before tramps crossed the straits in a storm. It was a favourite resort among the boys. Billy instantly began gathering driftwood for a bonfire.

"Guess the Indians had a fire in this same place yesterday, 'Phonse," he said, "because just see the new-looking ashes. Wonder if they started it with flint or by rubbing two sticks together. Do you know?"

"No, I don't. Hustle up, Billy, and don't stop to talk."

When the pile of driftwood was high enough to suit 'Phonse, he started the fire. Thanks to the west wind, it burned, and the boys were soon ready for the water. Billy walked into the lake, screaming at every step. 'Phonse climbed upon a rock and plunged in.

"Silly," he shouted, "course you'll be cold acting that way; get down in the water, Billy, then you'll be warm."

"It's too—too—too early to go swimming," gasped Billy, shivering in the wind and the icy water. "I—I'm—I'm glad we started the fire."

"Come out where it's deeper; here, give me your hand," said 'Phonse, "I'll show you how to go swimmun."

Soon Billy declared that the water was warm, and he and 'Phonse played in the lake for an hour. They splashed, laughed, and shouted, with only the gulls to hear, until 'Phonse said it was time to get dressed. The fire was out. 'Phonse threw some bark upon the coals, and looked for his clothes. There was not a thread of them left.

"Oh, Billy," he wailed "we left our clothes too near the fire, and they're all burned up; what can we do?"

"Oh, what shall we do?" cried Billy. "Oh, b-b-but m-my c-c-clothes are all r-right," he added in the next breath. "I'll divide with you, 'Phonse."

"Your clothes ain't either all right," insisted 'Phonse. "They're burning yet. Look at them."

"Here's one all right s-stocking, just the same, 'Phonse."

"Let me take it, then, Billy, and I'll put out the fire with it that's burning the rest of the things."

"You may wear the stocking," offered Billy. "The other one's gone, and the shoes are spoiled. Why, 'Phonse, there isn't anything left of my clothes but my shirt and my blouse and my trousers,—and look at my trousers, will you, all full of holes!"

"What if you didn't have anything left," grumbled 'Phonse. "I've got some shoes and stockings at home, Billy, but that's all. I don't know what dad will do, but I'll catch it, sure."

"Oh, 'Phonse, my mother'll give you some clothes to wear, if we can ever get to my house, but, oh, dear, it is so cold! Which do you want to wear, 'Phonse, my shirt or my white blouse; there's one sleeve burned out of both of 'em, and my waist is all gone."

"I'll take the shirt," 'Phonse decided. "Don't cry, Billy, I'm the one that ought to cry."

"B-but, but I'm s-s-so c-cold, and, oh, dear, I'm going to put on the s-s-stocking if you—you don't want it."

"I do, though," insisted 'Phonse; "give her here. You've got more on than I have, anyway. Come on, Billy, we'll be warmer if we run."

"Only I can't run, and—and—and the s-s-stones h-hurt m-my fee-feet," protested Billy, his teeth chattering.

"Don't be a baby," 'Phonse advised. "Oh, Billy, what if there is a lot of folks at the old fort? We better keep back from the lake. It's too cold here, anyway. Let's sneak around where the bushes grow."

"All right, go ahead, 'Phonse."

Cautiously the boys made their way around the clearing. They were nearly past the old fort grounds when they heard voices.

"Duck, Billy, duck; it's some boys from out of town," whispered 'Phonse, "and if they see us, I don't know what'll happen! Let's crawl!"

"Listen," Billy replied; "they've found a wonderful relic, I guess; hear them quarrel. Oh, 'Phonse, it's my Aunt Florence's locket, that's what it is, and they've got to give it up!"

Without stopping to think further, Billy darted from the thicket, followed closely by 'Phonse.

"That's my Aunt Florence's locket, so please give it to me," demanded the child, springing toward the largest boy in the group.

"Listen to him, will you," replied a taunting voice. "Here's the Wild Man of Borneo wants his Aunt Florence's locket. Well, I guess not. Have you two escaped from a circus, or do you want to join one, which?"

"Give me that locket," cried Billy. "I say that belongs to my Aunt Florence."

Great fun the big boys had then, teasing poor Billy, who begged, threatened, and jumped for the locket held just beyond his reach.

"Tell you what," suggested the roughest-looking boy, "let's tie these youngsters together, and leave them here until we can get out of town. Them's diamonds in that locket, boys."

At that moment 'Phonse sprang like a wild-cat upon the boy with the locket, and, snatching the treasure, ran with it to the woods. Billy was never more astonished, and at first the boys were too surprised to chase the strange little figure flying across the clearing. When they ran after 'Phonse, Billy hid. He wasn't afraid any one could catch 'Phonse, the swift-footed French boy, but he did fear being caught himself. Like an old-time Indian, Billy managed to keep out of the enemy's sight all the way home. 'Phonse was waiting for him in the edge of the woods.

"Here," said 'Phonse, offering Billy the locket, "take it to her."

Billy shook his head. "'Phonse, you come in the wood-shed, and sit in the corner where nobody'll see you, while I ask my mother for some clothes for us. Then you can give auntie the locket yourself."

"Won't you catch it?" asked 'Phonse; "you don't look very nice, Billy."

"You do what I tell you," remarked Billy. "My mother's the kind you can explain things to. I don't want the company to see me, though, so I guess I'll whistle for Betty."

Betty quickly appeared in answer to the whistle.

"Why, Billy Grannis!" she began, and then how she laughed.

"Keep still, Bet, there is a boy in the wood-shed that's cold. He hasn't on very much clothes, and he wants something to wear home."

That was all 'Phonse heard, as Billy was led into the house. The little fellow returned in a moment, dragging a cape. "Here, 'Phonse, Betty sent you this to wrap up in, and Betty says come in by the kitchen fire."

"I won't do it," was the reply.

"All right, then, I'll have to bring your 'freshments out here. It's a shivering kind, though,—ice-cream and cake; want some?"

"Don't I? You bet!" was the answer.

"Come, 'Phonse, come in the kitchen," urged Betty, again appearing at the door. "Please come. Billy has told auntie and me about the locket, and Aunt Florence just loves you. Quick as the company goes, mamma'll find you something to wear."

Trailing the cape behind him, 'Phonse walked into the kitchen, where Betty introduced him to Aunt Florence.

That night, when 'Phonse LeBrinn went home, his own folks didn't know him. In his arms he carried a bundle of Billy's old clothes; but everything he wore was new, from the red cap to the patent-leather shoes.