The announcement that the mice that had been caught in the car were
educated filled the boys with interest, but it did not lessen their
indignation nor that of the other passengers.
"The idea of mice on the train, even if they are educated!" shrilled the
elderly lady.
"It's outrageous!" stormed another lady. "I never heard of such a thing
in all my life!"
"Say, you must take this for a cattle train!" remarked the fat man,
bluntly. "If you do, you've got another guess coming."
"Oh, my dear, sweet mice," said the tall, slim man, as he took the
animal from Dave and also the one that Phil was holding. "That is King
Hal and this one is President Tom! They are both highly educated. They
can----"
"Say, howsoeber did yo'-all git dem trash in dis cah!" demanded the
porter.
"I--er--I had them in a cage in my--er--in my suit-case," the owner of the
mice answered, and now his voice faltered. "I really didn't think they
would get out."
"We don't allow no mice in de sleepin'-cahs!" stormed the porter. "Dogs,
an' cats, an' parrots, an' mice goes in de baggage-cah."
"Are there any more of them loose?" asked one of the ladies.
"I will see!" cried the tall, slim man. "I forgot about that! Oh, I hope
they are safe! If they are not, what shall I do? I have an engagement in
Jacksonville, and another in St. Augustine, to fill."
"Do you show 'em on the stage?" snorted the fat man.
"To be sure. Haven't you heard of me, Professor Richard De Haven, the
world-famous trainer of mice, rats, and cats? I have exhibited my mice
in all the countries of the world, and----"
"Never mind that just now," interrupted Dunston Porter. "Go and see if
the others are safe, otherwise we'll have to round up your live-stock
before we go to sleep again."
"Oh, I shall never sleep another wink in this car!" sighed a lady.
"I shall!" snorted the fat man, "or else get the price of my berth out
of that chap, or the railroad company!"
Professor De Haven ran to his berth and dragged forth a dress-suit-case.
A moment later he uttered a genuine howl of dismay.
"They are all gone!"
"How many?" queried Dave, who had followed him.
"Sixteen of them, not counting the two I have here now! O dear, what
shall I do?" And the professor wrung his hands in despair.
"Sixteen mice at large!" shrieked one of the ladies. "Oh, stop the
train! I want to get off!"
"Can't stop no train now," answered the porter. "We'se got to jest catch
dem mice somehow, but I dunno how it's gwine to be done," he went on,
scratching his woolly head in perplexity.
"I've got a shotgun along," suggested the fat man. "Might go gunning
with that."
"I'll get my cane," said another man.
"I guess the ladies better retire to the next car," suggested a third
passenger.
"Yes, yes, let us go, at once!" cried the elderly lady. "Porter, can I
get a berth there?"
"Sorry, missus, but I dun reckon all de berths on dis yeah train am
tooken."
"See here!" cried Dave, to Professor De Haven. "If the mice are
educated, can't you call them to you in some way?"
"To be sure!" cried the professor, struck by the idea. "Why did I not
think of that myself? I was too upset to think of anything. Yes, I can
whistle for them."
"Whistle for 'em?" snorted the fat man.
"Yes, yes! I always whistle when I feed them. Please be quiet. I shall
have to whistle loudly, for the train makes such a noise and it may be
some of my dear pets may not hear me!"
"Humph! Then you better whistle for all you're worth!" returned the man
of weight.
Walking slowly up and down the sleeping-car Professor De Haven commenced
to whistle in a clear, steady trill. He kept this up for fully a minute
and by that time several white mice had shown themselves. They were
somewhat scared, but gradually they came to him and ran up on his
shoulders.
"Well, doesn't that beat the Dutch!" whispered Roger, half in
admiration.
"I shouldn't have been so scared if I had known they were educated,"
returned Phil.
"Hush!" said Dave. "Give him a chance to gather them all in."
Placing the captured mice in their cage, the professor moved up and down
the car once more, opening the berth curtains as he did so. He continued
to emit that same clear trill, and soon his shoulders were full of the
white mice.
"Only one is missing, little General Pinky," he announced.
"Spit, spat, spow! Where did Pinky go?" murmured Phil.
"Ha! I have him! Dear little Pinky!" cried the professor, as the mouse
dropped onto his shoulder from an upper berth. "Now I have them all,
ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "You can go to sleep without alarm.
I shall take good care that they do not get away again."
"I dun reckon I'se gwine to take care of dat!" put in the porter. "Dem
mice am gwine into de baggage-cah dis minit!"
"But, my dear fellow----" broke in the professor.
"I ain't a-gwine to argy de question, mistah. Da is gwine in de
baggage-cah!" And the porter reached out and caught hold of the cage
containing the mice.
"Then I shall go with them," answered the professor, resignedly.
"Suit yo' self, sah."
"But they wouldn't hurt a flea!"
"Can't help it, sah, it's de baggage-cah fo' dis collection of wild
animals," answered the porter, striding off with the cage in his hands,
while the professor followed.
"Talk about something happening!" burst out Roger, when the excitement
was over. "This was the funniest experience I ever had."
"I am sure I don't see anything funny about it!" snapped the elderly
lady, who overheard the remark. "I think that man ought to be
prosecuted!"
"He didn't expect his mice to get loose," said Dunston Porter. "Just the
same, he had no right to bring them in here. As the porter said, all
animals must go in the baggage-car."
"Wonder if he'll come back," mused Phil.
"I doubt it," answered Dave. "Well, now I'm going to try to get a little
sleep," he added, as he climbed back into his berth. The others followed
suit, and presently one after another dropped into slumber. It may be
added here that Professor De Haven did not show himself again while on
the train, he being afraid of the indignation of those who had been
disturbed by his educated mice.
Early the following morning found our friends in the city of
Jacksonville, which, as my readers must know, is located on the St.
John's River. They did not wait for breakfast but hurried at once in the
direction of the Hotel Castor, once a leading hostelry of the city, but
which had seen its best day.
"Quite a town," remarked the senator's son, as they passed along.
"Jacksonville is now the main city of Florida," replied Dunston Porter.
"It is a great shipping center, and is also well-known as a winter
resort."
"How balmy the weather is!" was Phil's comment. "Just like spring at
home!"
Dave's uncle had been in Jacksonville several times and knew the way
well. Soon they reached the hotel, and with his heart beating loudly,
Dave hurried up to the desk and asked the clerk if Link Merwell and Nick
Jasniff were stopping there.
"Never heard of them," replied the clerk, after thinking a moment.
"I have photographs, perhaps you can tell them from that," went on Dave,
and he drew from his pocket two photographs, taken at different times at
Oak Hall. Each showed a group of students, and in one group was Merwell
and in the other Jasniff.
The clerk looked at the pictures closely.
"What is this, some joke?" he asked, suspiciously.
"No, it is a matter of great importance," answered Dave. "We must find
those two young men if we possibly can."
"Well, if they are the pair who were here some days ago, you are too
late. But their names weren't what you said."
"What did they call themselves?" asked Dunston Porter.
"John Leeds and Samuel Cross," answered the clerk. "They had Room 87,
and were here two days."
"Do you know where they went to?" asked Phil.
"I do not."
"Can you tell me anything at all about them?" went on Dave. "It is very
important, indeed."
"I might as well tell you," put in Mr. Porter, in a low voice. "They
were a pair of criminals."
"You don't say! Well, do you know, I didn't much like their looks,"
returned the clerk. "And come to think of it, one acted rather
scared-like, the fellow calling himself Leeds--this one," and he pointed
to the picture of Link Merwell.
"And you haven't any idea where they went to?"
"Not the slightest. They simply paid their bill and went away."
"Did they have any trunks sent off?" asked Roger. "We might find the
expressman," he explained, to the others.
"No, they had nothing but hand baggage."
"What--can you remember that?" questioned Dave.
"Yes, each had a suit-case and a small valise,--kind of a tool-bag
affair."
"Better look for that schooner, Dave," said his uncle, in a low voice,
and in a few minutes more they left the hotel, telling the clerk that
they might be back.
"Shall we get breakfast now?" questioned the senator's son. He was
beginning to grow hungry.
"You can get something to eat if you wish, Roger," answered Dave. "I am
going to try to locate that schooner first."
"No, I'll wait too, then," said Roger.
The shipping along the St. John's River at Jacksonville is rather
extensive. But Dunston Porter knew his business and went direct to one
of the offices where he knew he could find out all about the ships going
out under charter and otherwise.
"We want to find out about a schooner named the _Emma Brown_, or
_Black_, or _Jones_, or some common name like that," said Dave's uncle,
to the elderly man in charge. "She was in this harbor several days ago.
I don't know if she has sailed or not."
"_Emma Brown_, eh?" mused the shipping-clerk. "Never heard of such a
schooner."
"Maybe she was the _Emma Black_, or _Emma Jones_," suggested Dave.
"No schooner by that name here,--at least not for the past month or two.
We had an _Emma Blackney_ here about six weeks ago. But she sailed for
Nova Scotia."
"Well, try to think of some ship that might be named something like what
we said," pleaded Dave. "This is very important."
"A ship that might have sailed from here in the past two or three days,"
added Roger.
The elderly shipping-clerk leaned back in his chair and ran his hand
through his hair, thoughtfully.
"Maybe you're looking for the _Emma Brower_," he said. "But she isn't a
schooner, she's a bark. She left this port yesterday morning."
"Bound for where?" asked Dave, eagerly.
"Bound for Barbados."
"Where is that?" questioned Phil. "I've heard of the place, but I can't
just locate it."
"It's an island of the British West Indies," answered Dunston Porter.
"It lies about five hundred miles southeast of Porto Rico."
"If that's the case, then good-by to Merwell and Jasniff," murmured
Phil. "We'll never catch them in the wide world."