“Wait a minute; something’s coming in now,” the operator said, holding up his hand for silence. He listened a moment to the clicking of the ticker and then in a low voice said: “Yes, this is for you, Jerry. I’ll have it ready for you shortly.”
The boys sat down to wait, the silence broken only by the click of the telegraph sounder and the tap of the typewriter keys as the operator transcribed the message. It was a long one, and when Jerry read it to his chums they let out whoops of delight.
Not only did Tinny Mallison assert that there was every chance of his gold mine at Thunder Mountain proving a big winner, but he strongly urged the boys to hasten out to share in the good prospects. He added that he would send letters to their parents giving them every assurance that it would pay the boys financially and in added health to come out to Montana.
“This settles it!” declared Jerry. “We’ll go!”
“You said it!” chorused Ned and Bob.
A few days later, following the receipt of other telegrams from Mallison, the consent of the parents was won and the Motor Boys began preparations to leave for Thunder Mountain.
“I wish we could go all the way by auto,” said Jerry, when he and his chums were at his house one afternoon, talking over plans, “but I reckon it’s too much. My old boat wouldn’t stand the strain. But we can go part way by car—I’m going to sell mine, anyhow—and take a train the rest of the way.”
It being out of the question to use Mr. Baker’s new machine for the trip, a compromise had to be made, and Jerry’s old, but still serviceable, auto had been selected. As he said, they could sell it when reaching Chicago, or wherever they decided to take the train.
The matter of what they would carry with them was easily settled, as it was not the first trip the lads had made across country, and their experience in France was standing them in good stead.
Letters had been sent to Tinny, in answer to some received by him, and it only remained now to make the last preparations and then start for Thunder Mountain.