The pair fell back, but with cushions still held aloft menacingly.
“If it isn’t good,” said Frank, “look out.”
“Well, this is good, all right,” said Jack, and hurriedly he explained. Captain Folsom was about to set out from New York with Lieutenant Summers aboard the Nark to investigate reports that a veritable fleet of liquor-smuggling vessels was some miles out to sea off Montauk Point, the very tip of Long Island. On their way, they would stop off at the Brownell place and send a boat ashore with a change of guards to relieve those on duty. They would be 197 at the rendezvous in the course of the next three hours.
“Captain Folsom said,” concluded Jack, “that it had occurred to him the smugglers who stole our motor boat might have made out to this fleet, and invited us to go along to identify the boat in case it was found. He said there was just a bare chance of its being located, and he didn’t want to arouse our hopes unduly. Also, he added that there would be no danger, and he thought we would enjoy the outing. This time, however, he said, he would not take us unless by the permission of our parents. If that could be obtained, we should make our way to the Brownell place and the boat would pick us up.”
“Hurray,” cried Frank, executing a war dance. “Whoo-oo-oo-oo-oo!”
“Call up your father, Bob,” said Jack, “and ask him. I’ll run home and get my Dad on the long distance.”
Both boys hastened to execute the commission, and when Jack returned in an incredibly short time it was with his father’s permission to make the trip. Mr. Temple proved similarly amiable. Both men felt there could be no danger to the boys on such an expedition, as it was altogether unlikely that any liquor-runners would make a stand against an armed vessel of the United States Navy. Also, they were 198 struck by Captain Folsom’s reasoning as to the possible whereabouts of the motor boat and, knowing how the boys were put out at the loss, they felt it was only fair to the chums to permit them to run down this clue.
“It’s a good three miles to Starfish Cove,” said Jack, anxiously. “Can you make it all right on that bum leg, Bob?”
For answer Bob swung the wounded member back and forth several times. “I’ll hold out all right,” he said. “If I can’t make it all the way, you fellows can carry me. I’m only a slight load.”
Frank groaned in mock dismay.