“We will go ashore and try to find my father,” added Frank.  “Ready—­pull!”

Away dashed the Zephyr towards her boat house, while the Butterfly came about so that Tony could leap on shore.

Of course both Captain Sedley and George Weston were surprised at the sudden action of the clubs; but the deed was too noble, too honorable to their kind hearts to want their sanction, and it was readily given.  In less than half an hour the boats were pulling towards a convenient landing-place near Mr. Munroe’s house.

The poor man was confounded when the committee of two from each club waited upon him and stated their business.  His eyes filled with tears, and he and Little Paul wept together.

But Mr. Munroe could not think of taking the money at first.  He declared that he would suffer anything rather than deprive the boys of the gratification which their money would purchase.

“We are a little selfish about it, sir,” said Tony.  “We want to keep Paul among us.”

“That’s the idea,” added Henry Brown, who was his colleague on the committee.

“I can’t take your money, boys,” replied Mr. Munroe, firmly.

“You will oblige us very much by taking it.  My brother and Captain Sedley both know what we are about.  I am sure we shall feel happier in letting you have this money than we should be made by anything it will buy.  It was a unanimous vote in our club.”

“Noble little fellows!” exclaimed Mr. Munroe, with a fresh burst of tears, as he grasped the hand of Tony.

The matter was argued for some time longer, and finally compromised by Mr. Munroe’s agreeing to accept the money as a loan.

The notes were drawn up and signed by the poor man, whose heart was filled to overflowing with gratitude at this unexpected relief.

“Now you will let Paul come with us—­won’t you, Mr. Munroe?” asked Tony.

“Certainly; and I shall never cease to thank God that he has found such noble and true friends,” replied the poor man; and as they took their leave, he warmly pressed the hands of each member of the committee.

“Cheer up, Paul; don’t be downhearted.  It is all right now,” said Tony.

“I can’t be lively,” replied Little Paul, whose sadness cast a shade upon the enjoyment of the others.

“Why not, Paul?”

“I feel so sad; and your goodness to my poor father overcomes me.”

“Never mind that, Paul; cheer up, and we will have a glorious time.”

But Little Paul’s feelings were too strong and deep to be easily subdued.  His pride seemed to be wounded by the events of the day, and when they reached Center Island, he told Tony how badly he felt about his father being the recipient of their charity, as he called it.

“Charity, Paul!” exclaimed the noble little fellow.  “Look here;” and he pulled the note he had received from Mr. Munroe out of his pocket.  “Do you call this charity?”