“What was his name?” asked Ned eagerly.
“Let’s see, now. It was a curious sort of name. Shaky—no, it wasn’t Shaky—Sleepy—no, that ain’t it either—Noddy—that’s what it was. Noddy Nixon!”
“Noddy Nixon down here!” cried Jerry. “How long ago?”
“He was at this station a week ago to-day,” replied the agent. “Had to stay over one night because he missed a train, and he tried to make out it was my fault.”
“Just like Noddy,” murmured Ned. “So he’s down here? Maybe we’ll meet him.”
“Hope not,” remarked Jerry.
“Hark!” exclaimed the agent, as he listened to the clicking of the telegraph instrument. “There’s a message from Longwood. It’s about you’ boat.”