He handed each of the boys a personal letter from the chief of the United States secret service, thanking them warmly for the part they had played in the breaking up of the smugglers. To say the boys were delighted would be expressing it mildly indeed.
A few days after Mr. Gray’s arrival the boys took their leave, camping one night on the island to the south, and sleeping in the open, then paddling on to the New York shore.
At Clayton they took a train for their homes, Bert Creighton going back to Lake George, the Comrades to Mortonville, and Truem and Pod to Bayville, where they would spend the few remaining days of their vacation. Hoki, of course went with the Comrades. All of the boys looked eagerly forward to another meeting at Winton in September.
This was the first time the Comrades had seen their folks since going to Stockdale Preparatory School the previous fall, and the welcome given them, not only by relatives, but friends, as well, was a royal one. Hoki’s reception was also a warm one, and during his stay he was considerable of a curiosity to the villagers.
Tom’s mother, since the death of his father, was living at the house of a relative, and here Tom took his meals, making his headquarters at other times in the old home where he had an attic fitted up in a similar fashion to those of Chot and Fleet. The house had been rented by one of Mr. Duncan’s employes, who generously accorded Tom full privilege to do as he pleased. The attic had remained practically undisturbed, and Tom found great pleasure in rummaging among his books and mechanical contrivances.
The Comrades’ trunks had been sent home before they left Winton, together with Tom’s phonograph and Chot’s miniature windmill, on both of which inventions the boys expected to eventually realize great returns. Considerable remained on each to put them in shape for a first class marketable commodity, and during the days they were idling away their time they undertook to perfect them.
Tom was working faithfully one day when the private telephone which connected his attic with those of Chot and Fleet, rang loudly.
“Hello!” cried Tom, taking down the receiver.
“This is Chot.”
“Oh, hello, Chot!”