“It’s great to be young,” said Mr. Temple, looking at the glowing tip of his cigar.
Both men smoked in silence.
Sunday came and went without further developments. But on the next day, Monday, the fifth day after the momentous night at the Brownell place, Captain Folsom called the boys by radio. Tom Barnum, on duty at the plant, summoned Jack. The latter presently appeared at the Temple home in a state of high excitement.
“Say, fellows,” he cried, spying his chums sprawled out on the gallery, reading; “what would you say to a sea voyage, with a chance for a little excitement?”
Frank dropped his book and rolled out of the hammock in which he was swaying lazily. 196
“What do you mean?” he demanded, scrambling to his feet.
“Yes,” said Bob, who was comfortably sprawled out in a long low wicker chair; “what’s it all about?”
He heaved a cushion at Jack, which the latter caught and returned so quickly that it caught Bob amidships and brought him to feet with a bound. He winced a little. His injured leg, although well on the road to recovery, was not yet in a condition to withstand sudden jolting.
“Ouch,” he roared. “Sic ’em, Frank.”
“Let up,” declared Jack, warding off the combined attacks of his two chums, who began belaboring him with cushions; “let up, or I’ll keep this to myself.”