"I wanted to go to Bayport—right away. I want to catch that train, and if you can get me there in twenty minutes I'll give you ten dollars. Will you take me?"
The Hardy boys looked at one another doubtfully. Both were conversant with the Bayport train schedules and neither was aware of any train that left Bayport at that hour in the morning. Still, the stranger seemed very much in earnest and he drew a ten dollar bill from his pocket as proof of his good faith.
"Come!" he said impatiently. "How about it? Will you take me or will you not? I want to be there in twenty minutes. There's ten dollars in it for you."
Ten dollars, as Frank said later, "is not to be sneezed at." When they bought the motorboat their father made the stipulation that they should not draw on their bank accounts to pay for the gasoline, and every cent was precious for that reason.
"Jump in," Frank said. "I guess we can get you there in twenty minutes, all right."
"Thanks," said the florid-faced man, getting into the boat. "Make it as quick as you can."
Frank slipped into his seat and in a few moments the engine was roaring as the Sleuth glided away from the shadow of the wharf and headed out into the bay. She rapidly picked up speed and soon the salt spray was flying as the motorboat tore through the waves, her nose pointing toward Bayport.
The stranger settled back with a sigh of relief.
"Mighty good thing I met you," he said. "I was beginning to think I wouldn't be able to get out at all. There was only a rickety looking flivver in the village and I was afraid to take a chance on it, for I don't think it would have lasted a mile without falling to pieces. It was lucky I saw your boat when I did."
The Sleuth sped along under a darkening sky. They were running close to the shore in order to cut off as much distance as possible and keep a bee line for Bayport, and it was possible to have a clear view of the road that ran just above the beach.