"Codfish is a genius and no mistake," laughed Frank. "This outfit wouldn't be anywhere without him, and when the season is over we will vote him double pay."
"I was brought here under false pretenses," said that individual in what he tried to make an aggrieved tone. "Your telegram said: 'No work, big pay,' and since I arrived I've done nothing but work and haven't seen a red cent."
"Just a telegraph operator's mistake, I guess," said Frank. "Perhaps we wired you 'Big work, no pay'—wasn't that it, Jimmy?"
"Sure it was—something like that. But the Codfish enjoys working for love. He has too much money already; he said so himself."
"What time does your excursion start to-morrow?" inquired Mrs. Armstrong.
"Three o'clock, sharp," was Frank's answer. "We take a holiday to-morrow so as to be ready for the big meet."
"Do you suppose you could take mother and me along if we pay regular fare?" inquired Mr. Armstrong, stepping up behind them.
"Pay nothing," said Jimmy and the boys in a breath. "We'll take you as a super-cargo."
"I'm afraid of your speedy boat," said Mrs. Armstrong. "John, we will ride down on the trolley car."