“Perhaps we shall have an opportunity,” rejoined Mr. Dancer, little imagining that in the near future his words were to prove prophetic.
CHAPTER XIII.
AN IMPORTANT TELEGRAM.
“Hyah’s a telegram fo’ you, sah. De boy says no answer.”
Jupe handed Mr. Chadwick the yellow missive just at the conclusion of breakfast at High Towers, the morning after the trial trip of the White Shark.
The boys watched curiously as he opened the envelope. Telegrams were no uncommon things at High Towers. Anxious manufacturers and inventors in quandaries of various kinds were in the habit of summoning Mr. Chadwick, post haste, to solve their mechanical problems.
But in the present instance Jack felt a conviction that this telegram was of unusual import. His conviction became a certainty a minute later when Mr. Chadwick uttered an exclamation.
“Jack,” he said, turning to his son, “I want you to look up the next ship sailing for Cuba. You will find a list in the shipping column of the morning papers.”
“All right, dad. Come on, Tom,” said Jack, rising from the table and hurrying to the library.
“What’s in the wind now?” he said excitedly, as they sped along a passage.