“Yes—no, by hookey! It’s an old man with a white beard!”
“Well, what under the sun!” burst from Harry Ware.
“I rather fancy, young men, that your comrade will have an odd story to tell when we meet him,” struck in Prescott. “By Jove, he appears to be as efficient on the St. Lawrence as he and his chums proved to be on the Mexican border.”
“You bet Ralph’s on the job wherever he is!” said Percy Simmons fervently.
“I’m anxious to hear his story,” said Adams, the third customs man. “It’s few men, let alone boys, that could bull-doze La Rue and two other men as bad, and come back home with flying colors and an old Santa Claus for helmsman.”
“The man at the wheel looks like old Father Time,” laughed Harry.
“He’s right on time, anyhow,” declared Percy Simmons.
Not long after an interested group, gathered in the inspector’s office at Piquetville, heard Ralph’s story. The official was visibly chagrined over the loss of the gems, but he concealed this as well as he could and complimented Ralph on his excellent work.
“If you would accept a position I’d like to have you in this service,” he said; “but you can at least do us one favor. Lend the government of the United States your River Swallow for to-night.”
“I’ll do a lot more than that,” said Ralph quickly. “But, if I may ask, what is the plan, Inspector?”