THUS passed the days in Beaufort; very good days they were, too, taking them all in all. But they could not go on forever; in human experience nothing—not even eleven loads of wood—lasts forever, and suddenly Ned found himself on the of a change greater than his other greatest one: the loss of Bob, now a year back.  
For some time it had seemed to him that his father and mother were sharing a secret between them, and keeping him out in the cold. They would be talking, and when he drew near they would stop, with a glance from one to the other that said: “Look out!” If he hung around for quite a while after he had made them do this, he would be sent off on an errand; and once his father had even said, : “Ned, boy, run away. Your mother and I want to talk about something.”
 
The idea!
 
It could not be about Christmas, for Christmas was eight months ahead. And it could not be about his birthday, for his birthday had just been. And it could not be about another dog, for he would not have another dog—ever! Then what was it about? He felt abused, as well as excited.
 
“Ned, how would you like to leave Beaufort?” asked his father, , one evening, at the supper-table.
 
“Leave Beaufort!” repeated Ned, astonished.
 
“Yes,” said his mother. “Move away, you know.”
 
“For good? Where to?” demanded Ned, eagerly.
 
“Yes, probably for good; not for bad, let us hope,” replied his father, answering his first.
 
“To Chicago,” replied his mother, answering his second.
 
“Will we take Maggie?” Ned, with an eye to the pantry supplies.
 
“I suppose so, but that isn’t the point,” said his father—although Ned thought it a very important point, indeed. “The point is, would you like to go?”
 
“I’d hate to leave the river, and—and everything,” Ned.
 
“But you’ll have Lake Michigan, instead,” his mother.
 
“Tom and Hal and the other fellows won’t be there,” objected Ned.
 
“They can come to see you,” explained his mother. “And you’ll pick up lots of new friends. Why, the parks are full of boys!”
 
“Having fun?” asked Ned.
 
“Yes; baseball and all kinds of games, some that you never saw,” assured his mother.
 
“But there isn’t any hunting, is there?” objected Ned. “I want to hunt.”
 
“You can do your hunting when you come back to Beaufort to visit,” proposed his father.
 
“Can I take the scull-boat?” Ned.
 
“No, I believe you had better leave that here,” his father. “The lake has yachts, and steamers running across, you know——”
 
“Out of sight of land?” asked Ned, hopefully. “Do they get ?”
 
“W-well, not often,” said his father. “But they do get out of sight of land, that’s sure.”
 
“When are we going to move?” demanded Ned, now all ready to pack up.
 
“About the middle of next month,” replied his father.
 
“Then I won’t have any wood to pile!” cried Ned, overjoyed.
 
“No,” said his father, laughing. “I guess we have enough to last us through.”
 
So they were really to move away from Beaufort! This was the secret. Ned found out a lot of things before supper was finished, and as soon as he could he rushed out to tell. He went up to Hal’s—and Hal was tremendously . Hal and he went over to Tom’s—and Tom was astounded tremendously. And all three talked at once.
 
“My folks say I can have you up to visit me, right away as soon as we get settled,” announced Ned.
 
“I’ll come if I can,” agreed Hal.
 
“So will I, you bet,” agreed Tom. “I’ve never been in Chicago—at least, since I was big enough to remember.”
 
“You can have the whole scull-boat, now, Hal,” said Ned.
 
“I don’t want the whole of it. That wouldn’t be fair. You can take it with you,” proposed Hal.
 
“But I can’t take it—and that wouldn’t be fair, either,” declared Ned.
 
“I’ll tell you! You give your half to Tom!” cried Hal.
 
“That’s so!” exclaimed Ned. “Good idea, Hal! You can have my share, Tom. I’ll make you a present of it.”
 
“Oh, you’re fooling!” asserted Tom, staggered at the thought of owning part of the famous craft.
 
“No, I’m not,” retort............