Note how cleverly this question was framed; and the operator fell into the trap without even a suspicion that he was yielding up valuable information.
“I reckon you might,” he said, promptly, “because he went out of here not more than fifteen minutes ago, after sending his message. Start on Monday, I hear, Jack? Well, I only wish I was along. You fellows do have the best times going; while some of the rest of us have to keep our noses to the grindstone. Good luck to you all, and a bully trip on the river,” for Jack, having picked up all the information he wanted, had turned abruptly on his heel and was leaving the station.
That settled it, then. Clarence had sent a message to the unknown Jared Fullerton, that was presumably along the same lines as the one he had first started. And doubtless that individual would be only too glad to try and earn his hundred-dollar fee before Clarence and Joe arrived.
Since none of the motor boat boys would be in Clayton to be injured, the only way in which he could do anything would be to scheme to bring some miserable catastrophe upon the precious motor boats that had arrived and were waiting to be claimed by their young owners at the steamboat docks.
It was surely a time for quick thinking, and action, unless they wished to take the chances of having their whole summer outing spoiled.
And Jack, as he hurried home, was laying out a plan of campaign in his mind calculated to outwit the miserable plotting of the reckless Clarence and his equally unscrupulous crony, Bully Joe.
[CHAPTER IV—BLOCKING A SLY MOVE]
“Is that you, Jack?”
“No other. Say, George, can you come over here at once?” asked the boy who was at the other end of the telephone wire; and there was that in his voice to arouse the interest of George Rollins to fever heat.
“Why, sure I can. My wheel is handy, and you’ll see me drop in on you inside of a jiffy. But what’s the row, Jack; no bad news about our boats I hope? They haven’t been dropped overboard in the middle of Lake Erie, and sunk?”