“P. & Y. is up to 74,” he announced, “but all the ‘shorts’ are making savage assaults. Boys, this is a rather interesting game. It means about two million dollars a point for Moddridge and myself. A point up means the money in our pockets; a point down simply means that our pockets are being picked. However, I’m going to stop fussing until to-morrow. I’m off, now, in the auto, so you two will have to walk down to the pier. Expect me aboard with a party at about six o’clock. We’ll sail outside to-night. Tell Hank Butts I want a first-class dinner for six this evening. And now, bye-bye.”
“Well, he’s a wonder,” ejaculated Joe Dawson, as the motor boat boys turned to walk down the street “He may get wiped out yet, but if he does he’ll buy a fresh cigar, laugh and sit down to plan what he’s going to do to make a new fortune.”
“He can have Wall Street all to himself, though, as far as I’m concerned,” declared Tom Halstead. “If I went there every day I’m afraid I’d grow to be more like Mr. Moddridge.”
To the intense astonishment of both boys, when they boarded the “Rocket,” Hank informed them that Eben Moddridge was in his berth below and sound asleep.
“Why, I really believe Mr. Moddridge is acquiring some nerve,” laughed Halstead.
As Hank went below to look over his larder and galley, Halstead and his chum turned to busy themselves with the boat. After her long trip at racing speed there was much to be done in cleaning and trimming up her machinery, and the time was short. Yet, by team work, they accomplished much, and were on deck, in their best uniforms, when two cabs arrived at the pier.
Out of the first stepped Mr. Johnson, Banker Oliver and a stranger, the latter one of Mr. Delavan’s Wall Street friends.
Out of the second cab came Mr. Delavan. He turned while a second gentleman alighted. At sight of this last man Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson looked in swift delight at each other, then straightened up more than ever. For the man with the owner was George Prescott, the Boston broker, who had organized the Motor Boat Club and was now its president.
“How do you do, boys? I’m heartily glad to see you,” was Mr. Prescott’s greeting. Stepping across the gang-plank, he shook hands vigorously with each youth in turn.
“I’ve been hearing some fine things of you both,” he added. “I’m proud of my Motor Boat Club members. I shall have a long talk with each of you on the trip to-night.”