“Tell you what, pop’s getting there,” said Hockley, when he told this news to the others. “He’ll be the richest lumber dealer in the country before he gets through,” and he fairly swelled with pride over the announcement.
“I wonder where my father and yours will go,” said Frank to Mark, after the letters had been read, not once but several times. “It’s queer neither my letter nor yours tells that.”
“I guess they hadn’t made up their minds when the letters were written. I once heard father speak of coming down to Cuba and Jamaica. It would be queer if they did come down and we met them.”
“That would be just all right,” was the ready return, but as Mark spoke he never dreamed of the terrible circumstances which was to make that meeting a reality. Could he have looked ahead it would have caused him more than one shudder.
It had been determined that they should take the train for La Guayra on the following morning. There was to be a sailing of a steamer for Kingston and Havana one day later, and Professor Strong had already telegraphed ahead for the necessary accommodations.
“We can take our last look around Caracas to-day,” announced Professor Strong. “Have you boys any place in mind that you would like to visit?”
A general discussion arose. While it was at its height a gentleman who had driven to the hotel in his carriage came in and rushed up to the group.
“My own very dear friend, Amos Strong, once more,” he said, with a strong Spanish accent. “I received word last night that you and the boys had come back to Caracas. So I made up my mind I must see you all again. And how have you been?” And he shook hands cordially.
“We are all right, Morano,” was the professor’s reply, as the boys crowded around to speak to the newcomer, who was a teacher at the University at Caracas and an old college friend of Professor Strong.
“But we’ve had lots of adventures,” put in Darry.