“Oh, nothing half so bad; but I must see you,” Jack went on saying. “And George, start some of the rest along too, won’t you?”
“Buster and Josh are on my way, and if they’re home I’ll jolly both into coming. But you’d better try to poke out Herb over the wire,” came the reply.
“I will. So-long, George. Get a move on you now. Important!”
Then Jack put up the receiver, to sever connection; although a moment later he was asking Central to give him the Dickson house. By great good luck Herb happened to be up in his den, doing some packing; for this was the last day he would have at home saving Sunday, and he was a very careful fellow.
After hearing the “call of the wild,” as Jack expressed it, Herb consented to head for the Stormways domicile without any delay. He, too, made use of his wheel to cover the intervening distance; and quite a bunch of boys drew up in the yard about the same time.
Jack and Jimmie met them at the side door.
“Now, what under the sun has he got hold of, fellows?” queried George, nervously, as they filed up to Jack’s snug den; for the serious expression on the faces of Jack and Jimmie gave him considerable concern.
Nick was puffing like a steam engine. The little rush had winded him more or less; but at the same time he also looked anxious. For, as they were on the eve of starting out on their anticipated summer vacation, this sudden summons to headquarters gave him a shock.
“I only hope it ain’t anything about the boats,” he remarked plaintively, as he dropped down in a capacious chair that just suited his stout figure to a dot, and was hence invariably appropriated by Buster every time he came to see Jack.
“Well,” remarked Jack, “I might as well admit right in the start that it does concern our three motor boats.”