"Is that you, Jack?"
"No other. Say, George, can you come over here at once?" asked the boy
who was at the other end of the telephone wire; and there was that in
his voice to arouse the interest of George Rollins to fever heat.
"Why, sure I can. My wheel is handy, and you'll see me drop in on you
inside of a jiffy. But what's the row, Jack; no bad news about our boats
I hope? They haven't been dropped overboard in the middle of Lake Erie,
and sunk?"
"Oh, nothing half so bad; but I must see you," Jack went on saying. "And
George, start some of the rest along too, won't you?"
"Buster and Josh are on my way, and if they're home I'll jolly both into
coming. But you'd better try to poke out Herb over the wire," came the
reply.
"I will. So-long, George. Get a move on you now. Important!"
Then Jack put up the receiver, to sever connection; although a moment
later he was asking Central to give him the Dickson house. By great good
luck Herb happened to be up in his den, doing some packing; for this was
the last day he would have at home saving Sunday, and he was a very
careful fellow.
After hearing the "call of the wild," as Jack expressed it, Herb
consented to head for the Stormways domicile without any delay. He, too,
made use of his wheel to cover the intervening distance; and quite a
bunch of boys drew up in the yard about the same time.
Jack and Jimmie met them at the side door.
"Now, what under the sun has he got hold of, fellows?" queried George,
nervously, as they filed up to Jack's snug den; for the serious
expression on the faces of Jack and Jimmie gave him considerable
concern.
Nick was puffing like a steam engine. The little rush had winded him
more or less; but at the same time he also looked anxious. For, as they
were on the eve of starting out on their anticipated summer vacation,
this sudden summons to headquarters gave him a shock.
"I only hope it ain't anything about the boats," he remarked
plaintively, as he dropped down in a capacious chair that just suited
his stout figure to a dot, and was hence invariably appropriated by
Buster every time he came to see Jack.
"Well," remarked Jack, "I might as well admit right in the start that it
does concern our three motor boats."
"Don't tell me that any tragedy has happened to 'em, Jack?" pleaded
George, who was known to have a great affection for his _Wireless_, even
though the cranky speed boat did seem to delight in playing many cruel
tricks upon its skipper.
"No, not yet, I believe," came the answer.
"Good! You make me feel better already, Jack!" exclaimed George.
"But hold on!" cried Herb; "you noticed that he said 'not yet,' didn't
you, boys? Don't you see what that means? The boats are in danger; ain't
that so, Jack?"
"I've pretty good reason to believe so," replied the owner of the den;
and then he whipped out the crumpled telegraph blank. "Here, read that,
fellows, and tell me what you think. It fell from the pocket of Clarence
Macklin not half an hour ago. And I understand that he sent off a
message along these lines, after he had changed the wording a little."
Eagerly four heads were clustered above the yellow paper which he had
smoothed out on the chess table. Clarence wrote a plain hand, so that
there was no trouble in making out every word.
"Well, wouldn't that knock you?" gasped Nick, who had as yet failed to
entirely recover his wind after his quick passage on his wheel to Jack's
home, followed by the climb up two lights of stairs to the attic den.
"Jack, you're right; he means our boats!" ejaculated Herb, with a trace
of indignation and horror in his voice.
"Oh! the miserable skunk, what wouldn't I give for the fun of punching
his head for him. Just wait, the chance will come some fine day. Let
them dare do anything to my bully little _Wireless_! Why, Jack, they
could be sent to prison for a long term if they destroyed the boats."
Of course that was Skipper George, whose father being a lawyer, visions
of the stern hand of justice were always cropping up in the boy's mind.
"The way I look at it is this," Josh went on, deliberately; "Clarence
has a crony in Clayton, some fellow he knows by the name of Jared
Fullerton. Seems to me I've heard him mention that name, too, though I
don't remember anything about him. But he's meaning to hire this chap to
do something worth an even hundred. Fellows, we can give a quick guess
that something has to do with our three boats, which by now must be
lying on the steamboat dock there, waiting for us to arrive."
"You hit the nail on the head that time, Josh," declared Jack. "And I've
asked you all to come here so we could talk the matter over, and decide
what ought to be done."
An animated discussion followed. Some suggested one thing, which was
debated _pro_ and _con_; then another new idea would crop up, which they
eagerly seized upon, being deeply concerned about the safety of the
precious craft.
"Whatever do you suppose that sneak of a Fullerton could do, to put our
craft out of the running?" asked Nick, finally.
"Well, he might accidentally drop a lighted match under the tarpaulin
cover of one. You know it would flame up pretty quick, and might set the
whole bunch going like a pack of fire-crackers," Josh observed.
"Well, I hardly think any one would take such chances at that," Jack
remarked; "because, you see, they are lying on a public dock, and if a
big fire resulted it would mean the penitentiary for Jared. But no
matter, if a fellow only happened to be mean enough he could find lots
of ways to injure boats like ours. And for one, I don't propose to take
the chances."
"Tell us your plan, Jack; we'll stand by you," cried Buster.
"All right," said the other, quickly; "then listen. I propose that
George and myself go and see his father, and ask his advice. You fellows
make yourselves at home here; and after we've got things going we'll
come back to report. How does that strike you?"
"I say yes!" Josh hastened to cry.
As the others were of the same mind, Jack and George hurried away. It
being Saturday morning, George knew that his father would not be very
busy at his law office and could easily spare them a little time.
They found Judge Rollins without any client, which Jack considered
lucky, since haste was an element in their calculations just now. And
after he had heard the whole story, scanned the incriminating telegraph
blank, and asked numerous questions, the lawyer smiled, and said he was
ready to give his advice.
"Here is the address of a party I know in Clayton, and whose name just
came to me while you were talking, Jack," he observed. "Try and get him
on the long distance phone, and explain the circumstances to him as you
have to me. I feel sure that if you can reach Amos Spofford everything
will be all right."
Accordingly the two lads immediately hustled around to the central
station of the telephone company, where they could use the long distance
phone to better advantage than in a drug-store.
Having the local number of the party to whom the judge had referred
them, Jack, who had taken it upon himself to do the talking, because
George was apt to get excited, and splutter in a way that might
interfere with the carrying of his message to such a long distance,
asked to be connected with the Clayton office.
Of course, there was more or less delay, as usual, and the two boys
became quite nervous before there finally came a faint call.
When Jack learned that it was really Mr. Spofford who was at the other
end of the wire, he started to explain that it was Judge Rollins who had
told the boys to get in touch with the Clayton man.
Then as briefly as possible, for time was valuable, he told about the
trouble, and what they feared might happen. Happily, the man to whom he
was talking seemed capable of seizing on facts, and building a plan of
campaign instantly.
"Telegraph the agent of the steamboat Company to let me have the boats.
I happen to know him very well--his name is James Matthews. Then forget
all about the matter, boys. Depend on me! Your boats will be guarded,
day and night, every minute of the time until you arrive. That is all.
Goodbye!"
"Hurrah for Amos!" exclaimed George when his chum had related what the
man in Clayton had said. "He's all to the good! That was a bright
thought of yours, Jack, when you suggested going to ask my father's
advice!"
"But let's get back to the others," laughed Jack, as they paid the bill
and left the telephone office; "for they'll be burning up with anxiety
to know what's going on."
"Yes," grinned George, now as happy and light-hearted as he had
previously been gloomy, and oppressed with fears. "By now poor Buster
will have lost a pound or two in weight. He's the greatest fellow ever
to fret over things."
At that Jack fairly shouted.
"I know another of the same breed, George, and you can't deny it," he
said.
"Oh! well, what's the use?" admitted the other. "I know I do see
mountains often, that turn out to be ant hills when you get up close.
But I'm feeling particularly jolly right now. Bully for Amos. Won't we
shake him by the hand till he yells out for mercy. His name will be
emblazoned on the annals of our St. Lawrence cruise as the best friend
the motor boat club had, barring none."
Of course, they were set upon as soon as they entered the den in the top
story of the Stormways home, and made to tell what had happened. When
the balance of the club learned how neatly a spoke had been put in the
wheel of Clarence, they voted thanks to Mr. Edison for all he had done
in the interests of modern science.
And it can be set down as positive that those lads spent a much more
healthy Sunday than would have been the case had their minds still
wrestled with the problem of what the mysterious message sent by
Clarence stood for.
Then came the final morning when they were scheduled to leave the home
town, headed for the far distant Clayton, to begin their summer
vacation.
A score and more of boys were at the station to see them depart, besides
those persons who constituted the various families of the club members.
Their baggage was properly seen to, and then the last goodbyes said.
Clarence and his crony, Joe Brinker, came sauntering along, and stood
watching the passing of the expedition.
"He can't just help grinning all the time," Buster said aside to Herb,
as they were waiting at the car steps for Jack and George, still talking
with a group of friends.
"Sure he is," replied George, looking out of the corner of his eye, "and
every little while he says something to Bully Joe that tickles him to
beat the band. But we can afford to keep quiet, because we happen to
know how the game is going. I'm putting my faith in Amos right along;
he's going to make good."
"But why ain't Clarence and Joe starting, too?" demanded Nick at this
juncture.
"Oh! they're too sly for that, you see," George replied, knowingly, his
lawyer blood standing him in good stead. "Like as not they've got
through tickets right through Chicago, while we stop over in Milwaukee.
And even if they slip away this afternoon they could get to Clayton as
soon as we do."
"There's the conductor calling 'all aboard!' We're off, fellows!" cried
Buster, as he started to climb up the steps of the car, an operation
that required more labor on his part than in the case of more agile
lads.
The entire bunch grouped on the last platform of the parlor car at the
end of the train, and as they pulled out, waved their hats in salute to
the cheering of the crowd at the station.
Faster went the train, and presently a turn hid the home town from the
sight of the six vacationists. If any of them felt badly over parting
from loved ones they succeeded in concealing the fact as they passed
inside to take their seats, and while looking from the windows at new
scenes, lay delightful plans concerning the glorious time they
anticipated would be their portion when they got fully started on their
St. Lawrence river cruise.