At the forward end of the car was a small compartment set apart for the use of smokers Dave and Dan did not smoke; they had take seats in this compartment because they wished to be alone.
"You asked me to let you know when we got near Annapolis, gentlemen," announced the conductor, a cheery-faced young man, thrusting his head in. "There is the town right ahead of you."
"You said that you go by the hotel, I think?" Dave asked.
"I'll stop and call the hotel," replied the conductor. "We'll be there in less than two minutes."
It was a quaint, old-fashioned, very pretty southern town that the car now entered.
"I'll bet they're a thousand years behind the times here," sighed
Dalzell, as they gazed about them.
"Not at the Naval Academy, anyway," retorted Dave Darrin.
"Oh, of course not," Dan made haste to agree.
The car passed an imposing-looking brick building that housed the post-office, then sped along past the handsome, dignified old residence of the Governor of Maryland. Up on a hill at their left the State Capitol stood out. Then the car bell clanged, and the car stopped.
"Maryland Hotel!" called the conductor.