Besides Buster and Jack, there were the Irish lad, Jimmie Brannagan, who lived with the Stormways, being something of a ward of Jack’s father; Herb Dickson, and George Rollins, all of them members of the high school team.
These five boys, with the addition of another who was not present just then, composed the membership of a motor boat club, and between them owned three very clever craft. George’s was a narrow speedboat, called the Wireless, the powerful engine of which had a faculty for getting out of order just when most wanted. The one of which Jack was skipper was named the Tramp, and while not so fast as its dangerous competitor, could still make great time. Herb possessed a commodious launch, which he had very wisely christened the Comfort, for she was as staunch and reliable as a houseboat.
During the preceding autumn, taking advantage of the school being closed until New Year’s because of an epidemic in the town, these boys had made a long trip down the Mississippi river to New Orleans, being given permission by their parents or guardians.
To make the run more interesting Jack’s father had contributed a silver cup as a trophy; and the annals of that adventurous race have already been given in the first volume of this series. The boys for some time had been laying their heads together and planning another outing for the coming vacation; but for various good and sufficient reasons they were keeping their intended cruising ground a dead secret from everybody.
“Where’s Josh Purdue?” asked Herb, as the party swung into the main street of the town. “We want him along when we talk over that letter Jack had from Clayton, where our boats are going. What did you do about hiding their destination, Jack?”
“Yes,” said George, quickly. “You know we agreed that those chaps were nosing all about, trying to get a clew. Clarence has ordered a rattling motor boat from some eastern maker, and if he could only learn where we’re going to hang out this summer, wouldn’t he just try to make it warm for us, though? Ten to one you hadn’t left the station five minutes after fastening on the tags before he was reading the same.”
“I expected that, fellows,” laughed Jack, “and did the best I could to fool him. The boats are only sent to the address in Milwaukee. From there they will be rebilled to Clayton and shipped on a steamer through the lakes.”
“But he might even have the nerve to write to that agent and make some excuse for asking where they were sent. How about that, Jack?” asked Herb.
“I even thought of that,” replied the other. “You see, when you’re dealing with wide-awake, unscrupulous fellows like Clarence Macklin, and his toady, Joe Brinker, it pays to insure against trouble. And I’ve done it as well as I knew how.”
“Tell us about it, please,” asked Buster, anxiously.