“If I’d lost all you say you have, there wouldn’t be anything more of me left than a grease spot, and that’s right!” grinned Josh.
“What shall we do, Jack?” and Herb turned to the one upon whom they usually depended to steer them clear of the shoals.
“Well, here’s the office right handy,” replied Jack, smiling. “Suppose we crowd inside, and make the agent give up some information. He ought to know what’s happened to our boats, because we understood they got here safe.”
“A bully idea, Jack; you’re the goods when it comes to doing the right thing!” Josh remarked.
Accordingly they fell in line, and rushed into the little office, where a gentlemanly fellow, who was working at some freight accounts, in his shirt sleeves, because of the heat of the day, glanced up in more or less surprise.
“We’re looking for some motor boats, sir, that arrived on the vessel from the west. They were billed from Milwaukee by your line.”
As Jack said this the agent smiled.
“Which one of you wired our Mr. Matthews?” he asked.
“I did. My name is Jack Stormways,” replied that individual.
“You gave him authority to turn the three boats over to some party, didn’t you?”