It was a relief, when they returned to the hotel, to find a first-class meal awaiting them, something that “topped clean over old Sudlip’s lobscouse,” as Darry put it, borrowing a favorite sailor’s expression.
It was decided to take a run up to Spanish Town the next morning. They could get a train about ten o’clock, and that would give them ample time to look around and get back before three, the time when the Chester would set sail.
All of the boys were up bright and early on the following morning with the exception of Hockley, who snored away until Professor Strong called him.
“I don’t want to get up,” he grumbled. “Nothing to see in this dead hole.” Yet when dressed he joined the others in a trip to several public buildings, where an English official kindly showed them around.
Ten o’clock found them at the depot, waiting for the train which was to take them to Spanish Town, and here they discovered that the time table had been changed and the train would not leave until half an hour later.
“But we can get back before three even so,” announced Amos Strong, after studying the schedule. “I fancy none of you want to return to the Chester until it’s necessary.”
They waited around and at last the little locomotive, with its three coaches rolled in. As it came to a stop they heard a yell, and looking around, saw January Jones coming toward them on a dead run.
“Hello! what does he want?” exclaimed Mark. “Something is up, that’s certain.”
“Stop! stop!” called out the negro, as soon as he was within speaking distance. “Doan yo’ go fo’ to take dat train, less yo’ want to lose de ship!”
“Lose the ship?” queried Professor Strong. “What do you mean? We expect to be back before three o’clock.”