The storekeeper looked somewhat curiously at the two men.
"I'm supposed to exercise care and judgment in selling these weapons," he remarked slowly.
"Of course, of course," returned Mr. Perry. "The situation is this: We belong to a yacht on the river and have run up against some bad characters. I am the owner of the yacht and have decided that we need protection."
"Sure, sure, that's perfectly satisfactory," said the hardware man. "You can buy out my whole arsenal on that explanation."
"We won't need it," Mr. Perry smiled. "These two guns are enough."
The purchase completed, the two men and the boy left the store and hastened on toward the municipal docks.
Meanwhile Max arrived at his home and went direct to his radio room. There the first thing he did was to don his phones, and the result was instantly startling.
He had left the instrument tuned to the Friday Island wave length and the aerial switch in receiving position.
"S O S, S O S, S O S," crashed into his ears in rapid, energetic, excited succession, it seemed to his susceptible imagination.
Quickly he threw over the switch, and called for an explanation. It came as follows: