The other two boys felt largely the same way toward the good-looking stranger who had forced himself on them.
Parting for the evening, with their plans laid for the next day, they went home, while Frank and Minnie took their time, chatting gaily about things in general, Minnie taking a little more pains to keep away from Cunningham as a subject for conversation.
“But he is such a nice boy,” she thought to herself, when Frank had bade her good-bye. “I am sure he isn’t quite so great a villain as Frank seems to think.”
Before Frank could go to the Rocket, even though the other boys were up early and doing their tasks toward the day’s trip, he had to call at the hospital to learn about his father, since the news of the evening before had been only average, nothing to make him feel cheerful.
“He’s getting along well, I think,” cheerily said the nurse on this bright morning. “Had a good night’s sleep, and seems to be resting. Go in and see him.”
They chatted for a while, Frank doing most of the talking, telling of the day previous, the picnic, and ending by saying that he was going out to-day to help Mrs. Parsons. As yet Mr. Allen had not been told much of the details, merely that Mrs. Parsons place had been robbed. Mr. Allen was a sick man.
“All ready, fellows?” asked Frank as he reached the boat-house and saw the four boys lined up. “Let’s get her out, then!”
So the Rocket was started on her voyage up the Harrapin, a voyage of exploration for clues or direct knowledge—a voyage intended to turn up something before the day was ended.
“Can you show us what kind of speed she’s got in her, so we’ll know in advance whether you’re going to win against the Speedaway?” asked Paul.
“Pretty coarse way you have of getting a speedy joy ride,” Frank smiled at his good friend. “Wait until we clear out of these boats and get past the island there and we’ll show them, won’t we, Lanky?”