“No, thanks. Three meals a day are enough for me,” and Ned sat down in a chair to watch Bob eat.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry. “You look excited.”
“I met Noddy Nixon, on my way here.”
“You don’t mean it! So he’s back in town again. Did you have a quarrel with him?”
“Not exactly,—but we had a discussion. I can’t stand him. He makes me mad every time I meet him, and when I thought of how he and Bill Berry tried to wreck that vessel down on the coast,—though I guess Noddy didn’t realize what a game Bill was playing—why I feel as though I wanted to thrash Noddy.”
“Don’t blame you,” said Bob, finishing the last of the jam and bread and butter. “What did he have to say?”
“Oh, a lot of things, but principally that he was going down to Florida to take possession of a cocoanut plantation he’s purchased, or which he thinks he’s bought. I think it’s all in his mind.”
“Cocoanut plantation!” exclaimed Bob.
“Down in Florida?” inquired Jerry.
“Yes. This is how he happened to mention it,” went on Ned. “I was going past him on the street without speaking, though I was so surprised at seeing him that I wanted to ask where he came from. However, he saved me the trouble. He hailed me and, in that sneering way of his, he said he had something that was better than the gold mine in which we own shares. I didn’t ask him what it was, but he told me. Said he had bought a cocoanut grove or farm, or whatever they call ’em, and was going to get rich. He said he was going down in a week or so to live on the land and be a wealthy man.”